


Everything That Is, Casts A Shadow

by nekojita



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Neil Josten, Bisexual Kevin, Canonical Child Abuse, DO NOT REPOST OR UPLOAD ELSEWHERE, Dark Neil Josten, Demisexual neil, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Minor Character Death, More tags to be added, Neil Josten as Nathaniel Wesninski, Never - Freeform, Raven!Neil, Torture, all rape/non-con is in the past, andrew is still his usual gay disaster self, andrew is very tired of 'chop-chop', andrew will never let wymack forget that he didn't practice safe sex, bamf renee walker, but none happens in the fic, dark renee walker, deaths staged as suicide, jean calls neil and renee out on their stabby habits, jean delights on being the 'non-stabby' one, jean is the sassiest baguette you'll (probably) ever see, neil and renee are the co-leads of the 'protect jean' club, neil and renee as siblings, neil and renee do a lot of the killing, neil/jean/renee cuddle pile, people are killed, raven!renee, renee is very serious about consent, renee walker as natalie shields, there is NO ichineil here i promise, there is a lot of violence here, this is a bit dark okay?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 83,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27456343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: Natalie Shields's life was bad enough that she joined Detroit's Bloodhound gang in a desperate attempt at survival. She endured its brutal initiation and its harsh rules with a strength that belied her young age. However, when strangers from out east showed up one day to punish the Hounds' leader, she believed that her time was finally up and wasn't concerned with the fact.It turned out that she was wrong. It turned out that one of the strangers thought it would fun to drag her back to Baltimore as a way to torment the wife of the Butcher of Baltimore.Nathaniel Wesninski ends up with a foster sister to teach him a lesson - that he's responsible for the actions of others. He's used to his father finding excuses to punish him so he accepts Natalie, pleased to have someone to play Exy with and who doesn't hurt him, someone who turns into a sister for real. Someone who stays by his side as they enter the Nest and become assets to the Moriyamas.
Relationships: Abby Winfield/David Wymack, Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten & Jean Moreau, Neil Josten & Renee Walker, Neil Josten & Renee Walker & Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose, Renee Walker/OC, jean moreau/OC
Comments: 172
Kudos: 323





	1. Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! *nervous wave* So, I've been writing this story for a while now, and originally thought I might post it when it was all done. But people have expressed interest in it and my therapist has been encouraging me to post again, so here we go. I've seven chapters finished and I feel that's over halfway done (but then again, you know me and my inability to properly gauge how long a story will be), so at least I've a good buffer built up on things.
> 
> Sorry for the silence, but between being put on some medication and trying to figure out the dosage, things being unsettled in life (and that was before the whole Covid mess)... it's been 'interesting' to find a somewhat stable mind to write. I haven't abandoned the other stories, just trying to be able to finish chapters for posting.
> 
> Ah, so trigger warnings for this story? Violence, obviously. There's Nathan and Lola in this chapter, so violence and Nathan chopping up someone, child abuse (Nathan and Lola) and domestic abuse (Nathan and Mary), but those last two aren't graphic. There's past reference (again, nothing graphic) to Natalie's/Renee's initiation into the Bloodhounds, and mention of drug use (nothing graphic). I'd say it's past reference, but two characters smoke a joint.
> 
> Moving forward, there will be more violence; if you've read Armies, expect something like that. Neil/Nathaniel and Renee/Natalie are basically main branch enforcers (not to give too much of a plot point away). THERE IS NO ICHINEIL IN THIS FIC! The rating might go to explicit later on, but that's for Andreil, okay????
> 
> Ah, thanks to a-slytherin-annabeth and greyjumper55 for providing feedback on this chapter!  
> *******

*******

Natalie shivered as the cold wind bit through her worn, oversized winter coat and the two sweatshirts beneath it; January was never a good time to be outside in Detroit for extended periods, but Mark would have her hide (literally) if she didn’t hand off the package to François, who was running late.

After what had happened to Becca two weeks ago for messing up a drug run, Natalie wasn’t budging from her spot outside the closed drug store, no matter the worried looks passersby sent her way; a few muttered about kids her age having no common sense and one woman chided her to go home, which she responded to with a wry grin as she tucked a stray strand of her dyed blue hair beneath her knitted hat.

If she had any real type of home, wouldn’t she already be there?

She continued to wait despite her face, feet and hands slowly going numb, the growing itch beneath her skin and the twisting emptiness in her belly. François better have a damn good reason for being so late, she thought as she swiped at her runny nose, only to frown when a familiar car that wasn’t the Canadian runner’s black SUV pulled up to the curb in front of her – Jorge’s beat up and rusted Camry.

“What are you doing-“

“Get in,” Lacy demanded as she leaned out the rolled-down passenger window, her expression unusually serious.

“But I….” Natalie did a quick motion to her right side, to the package of heroin hidden beneath the bulky layers.

“Forget it, get in now,” Lacy said as she reached back to open the door for Natalie. “Mark called an all-hands meeting.”

Shit. Natalie hustled to obey as quickly as her frozen muscles would cooperate (frozen and sore, since Trevor had wanted to ‘play’ the other night and she hadn’t), and let out a heartfelt sigh once in the car; Jorge shot her a sympathetic glance through the rearview mirror before he pulled into traffic then cranked up the heat as high as it would go. “Been out there a while, eh?” the older teenager asked, as bundled up in layers as Natalie despite being out of the cold, to the point that the only tattoos which showed on his light brown skin were the crossbones on the back of his hands.

“Too long,” she complained as she rubbed her hands together. “François never showed.”

“Yeah, there seems to be something going on,” Lacy said as she searched through her huge purse for what turned out to be a few tissues, which she handed back to Natalie. “Some big wigs showed up today, which is why Mark’s called us in.” Concern lit up her pale green eyes, so striking against her clear, dark complexion.

“From Chicago?” Someone from the city had come to talk to Mark a few days ago; Kenny had told Natalie that things didn’t seemed to go well during the visit since she’d been taking care of ‘distribution’ that night. She’d been surprised to hear that, because Chicago usually meant someone higher up in the cartel which supplied the drugs they ran and sold, which meant more power.

Lacy frowned as she shifted things around in her bag for a moment (probably made sure she had easy access to her gun). “No, I hear they’re from farther east than that.”

“East? Don’t you mean west?” Natalie leaned forward with her still chilled hands clasped between her thighs. “The stuff comes from the west.” Well, actually, it came from the south and the Perro Negro cartel, who had people in the various North Dakota reservations where they smuggled the drugs into, and from which they dispersed it outwards to gangs like the Bloodhounds who then sold it to the locals or passed it on to runners who took the drugs into Canada, right across the border, or further east.

Jorge clicked his tongue as he slowed onto the gravel road which led to the abandoned warehouse where the gang congregated when they weren’t working. “No, _east_. You should know by now that there’s always someone higher up the food chain,” he scoffed as he slipped a rolled joint between his lips. “And from what Des said? These guys are up there, and they’re from the East Coast.”

Natalie huddled forward despite how it made the pack of drugs dig into her ribs, at the thought of these unknown players having control over her life; when her stomach growled out loud, Lacy handed her a candy bar from her bag, which Natalie accepted with a thankful nod. She ate a few bites before Jorge passed back the joint, which she was more grateful for, considering how long it had been since her last hit of heroin.

Judging from the number of cars parked haphazardly around the derelict building, most of the gang was inside already, so Natalie, Lacy and Jorge hurried to join them. She gave a cool look to the dozen or so strange men standing around just inside the entrance in expensive leather coats who probably were from Chicago (she spotted a Bears scarf on one of them), but she nodded respectfully to Des while she ignored Trevor. When Des held out his hand, she passed along the paper-wrapped bundle of heroin to Mark’s quiet lieutenant, mindful to ensure that her knives were easily accessible when she readjusted her clothes.

There was an odd tension in the room which she didn’t think was from an overdue high or too many people packed together in a cold space.

She’d just rejoined Lacy and Jorge, attention half on the way that Mark was whispering to a scowling Trevor, when a couple of the Chicago muscle hurried to open the main door to admit two more strangers – a man dressed in one of those expensive winter coats with the patches on the sleeves and fur trim on the hoods which were always an open invitation for a mugging as far as Natalie and the rest of the gang were concerned, and a woman with a full length fur coat. Judging from their similar features – dark brown eyes, straight noses, full lips – she thought they might be related, though the man’s dark hair was slicked back from his forehead while the woman was a bleached blonde.

They both were obviously ‘higher up the food chain’, judging from the way that Mark swore beneath his breath upon their entrance and how the Chicago muscle deferred to the two, the confident way the strangers sauntered into the warehouse (the woman in stiletto heels at that), and the weapons which were exposed as they opened their expensive coats (to reveal equally expensive clothes beneath their outerwear) despite the chill in the air (physical and otherwise). Lacy draped a protective arm over Natalie’s shoulder and hugged her close, her free hand buried deep inside her bag (probably wrapped around her gun) while Natalie slipped her hands into the pockets of her coat – _past_ the pockets to where her knives were sheathed.

_Some_ of her knives.

Judging from Jorge’s hand on his right hip and the postures of the rest of the Bloodhounds, the gang was ready to fight at any moment.

The glossy red lips of the blonde stranger curved as she glanced around the open area of the warehouse, while her companion’s expression was one of scorn. “Rein in the pups, Dalton, or this little visit will cost you even more.” The woman’s voice was husky and possessed a northeastern accent, which proved Lacy and Jorge right.

Anger darkened Mark’s face, a warning sign that usually had Natalie and most of the gang running for cover, yet before he unleased it on someone else (someone smaller and weaker), he clenched his fists and jerked his chin down and up. “Stand down,” he called out, and had to repeat the order to Trevor, who glared at the strangers with his right hand on the butt of his gun. “What do you want? Everything’s on track and-“

Moving surprising fast for someone in a skintight dress and high heels, the woman dashed forward and backhanded Mark; Trevor and a few others would have pulled weapons on her if her partner (or whatever) and the Chicago muscle hadn’t pulled theirs first. “Oh no, snuggums, don’t even try,” she purred in that husky, too sweet voice while a knife appeared in her hand as if magic (it wasn’t, she had a sheathe on her right forearm, Natalie noted). “You know why we had to leave a civilized city like Chicago and come to a shithole town this to deal with you, you and your junkie hotheads.” As Mark glared, she reached out with the knife and dug its tip beneath his chin. “A lesson, snuggums. When your betters appear before you? Listen to them, don’t dump their body in some old factory.”

“He…he… ow! He left here just fine,” Mark gritted out as blood ran down his throat, as Trevor cursed while Des and Holly stared blankly at their leader (as did Natalie and the rest of the gang).

The man spoke up for the first time while the woman smiled, her expression cruel as she seemed to twist the knife back and forth beneath Mark’s chin. “You dumb fucks think we didn’t check before we came out here?” he asked, his voice deep and possessing the same accent as his partner. “DeFazio left after telling you about the new percentage owed, and he was with Johansson before he dropped off the radar. We dug .45 caliber bullets out of him, which just so happen to be what your trigger-happy boy over there,” he jerked his leather clad left thumb in Trevor’s direction, “favors. Do you think we’re stupid, Dalton? Think we’re useless like you dumb fucks out here?”

Mark gave a weak chuckle before the knife dug in even more. “Think you… think you fuck this sister of yours.”

Natalie wasn’t the only one sucking in her breath at that statement, yet all the woman did was laugh, at least at first. Then she slashed the knife across Mark’s face while her partner motioned for the muscle to bring a smirking Trevor forward. “Oh snuggums, I can always count on your limited intelligence to make things amusing,” she said in that purring voice while he shrieked in pain. “Remember that comment about cost? This is where you pay up.” She flicked out her left hand, the one not holding the knife, and before Trevor could finish calling her a brother-fucking bitch, he was shot in the chest several times by her partner (her brother, Natalie assumed).

He wasn’t Chris, but he’d participated in Natalie’s _initiation_ (degradation), so she smiled to see him crumple to the ground with lifeless eyes and blood spilling out the gaping bullet holes.

Except it didn’t stop there as the blonde’s partner continued to fire randomly at the gang, at Amal and Steve and Oz and Heidi, as the woman flung a knife at Eli as well. Lacy shrieked in Natalie’s ear and tried to drag her away, but Natalie had always known that she lived on borrowed time, ever since her father had overdosed and her mother had gazed at her without recognition or care.

She was a ghost walking in many ways, so why not give up her life if it kept Lacy, Jorge and the others safe?

So when the blonde stranger shoved a knife toward her, she merely remained still (other than a slight twitch from the heroin withdrawal) and met the woman’s cold gaze with one of her own, until the woman chuckled and drew the knife away after a light slice across her throat. “Hmm, Rom? I have an idea for this one,” she called out to her partner, who’d finally holstered his gun after shooting Marcy.

“Eh?” He glanced over at her while the Chicago muscle continued to ensure that the Bloodhounds didn’t fight their ‘punishment’. “What? Just stab her or whatever, we don’t have time for your games.”

“Exactly, because it’s _Junior’s_ birthday,” the blonde sang out as she tapped the flat of the knife against Natalie’s nose; she could sense Lacy and Jorge behind her, but they knew better than to try anything against their ‘higher ups’ (and the semi-automatic weapons pointed at them). “And I’ve the _best_ idea for a present.”

The man paused for a moment, then motioned to where Frankie was putting up a bit of a fight (was about to get himself shot) before he pursed his lips. “The bitch won’t like it.”

“Even better, no?” the blonde purred, appearing well pleased with herself as she stroked the flat of the blade along Natalie’s left cheek.

“And the boss? What about him?”

“Hmm, may be a new toy for him, who knows?” Dark brown eyes narrowed at Natalie as the knife hovered over her left eye. “Anyone gonna miss you, sugar?”

She knew she should lie and say ‘yes’, but why bother? “No, not outside the gang,” she admitted in a soft voice. And the gang wouldn’t do a thing against these two, not if it meant they left without causing anymore bloodshed.

If it meant that they lived instead of Natalie.

“Good.” The woman glanced over her fur-clad shoulder to where Mark was crouched on the floor in a defensive position with Des and Holly near him. “Next time we send someone to you, Dalton? You listen and you obey, or _you’ll_ be the one to pay the price. Ta for now,” she called out as she latched on to Natalie’s left arm and dragged her out of the warehouse, away from the stench of blood and death to the cold, bitter air outside.

Lacy and a few others called out her name, but no one stopped the woman from taking her, just as Natalie had expected; she didn’t know where she was going, but figured she’d been given a brief stay on her execution only (why ask her about anyone missing her?).

So long as it was an execution only, she’d go along with it. If they wanted to have some ‘fun’ before it… well, she still had her knives.

She was shoved into the back of a fancy limo, into the footwell of it (no nice leather seats for her), where she was promptly ignored while the blonde stranger and her partner talked briefly to someone about preparing the flight and that ‘it’ was done. They drank from the vehicle’s mini bar but didn’t offer her anything, which was no big surprise.

The private jet was a little one, only in that Natalie got to fly on it, not that the two had the contacts or the money to command it, and she spent the entire length of the flight (shoved into a seat in the far back and ignored) waiting to be flung out of the plane.

(She was given a chance to use the bathroom, at least, though suspected it was more to prevent her from stinking up the plane than anything else).

By the time they reached their final destination, she was tired, thirsty, hungry and desperate for a hit of heroin. The blonde gave her knowing glances for her trembles and sweats, yet dragged her along without a care.

It took a little while, but Natalie soon picked up on the fact that she was in Baltimore from the road signs; East Coast indeed, she mused as she forced down the growing sense of nausea. It was late evening and overcast with a slight drizzle, yet the couple times she stepped outside the temperatures didn’t feel as cold as back in Detroit.

The surroundings gradually grew more affluent as they reached their destination, a mansion (for lack of a better word) of grey bricks with pale columns out front, surrounded by brick walls with an iron gate for security. Natalie stared in awe at the opulence, at the stately manor, the expansive grounds well maintained even in winter.

“All right, sugar,” the woman (Natalie had heard her be called ‘Lola’) said in that purring tone, “this is where you give up your blades.” She smirked at Natalie, who blinked in surprise at the command, at being allowed her knives for the last few hours, and didn’t move at first. “You’ve been good, but there’s no way we’re letting you in the house with them. Give them up or we take them away.” A hint of steel crept into the woman’s voice at the end, which ‘suggested’ that Natalie would prefer to cooperate.

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, not when she was outnumbered, but…. “If anyone touches me, I’ll rip out their throat with my teeth,” she swore as she slowly handed over her weapons to the man (‘Romero’, from what she’d overheard).

Lola grinned while Romero scoffed. “Oh, you’ve a bit of fire, sugar.” The grin took on a cruel edge as she slapped Natalie hard on the left cheek. “But the boss will do with you whatever he wants, understand?” When all Natalie did was glare, she giggled. “You’ll learn soon enough, that or be screaming in agony. Fun times either way.” She flicked her manicured nails (the same color as her lipstick) in the air before she turned around to enter the house (a young man who clearly was a bodyguard of sorts opened the door).

Natalie followed with Romero at her back and walked into a house that was just as opulent on the inside: the floors were gleaming wood covered with intricate rugs, the pieces of furniture looked like antiques, the paintings old with ornate frames. She was led past a room filled with plush couches and chairs, and another that appeared to be a formal dining room, until they reached a closed door. Lola knocked twice on it and waited until a deep voice called out for her to ‘enter’.

It was an office, just as elaborately decorated as the rest of the home (from what Natalie had already seen): more beautiful throw rugs, a wall covered in shelves filled with leather-bound books, paintings on the other walls, a large desk of gleaming wood with two padded leather chairs in front of it and another behind. As Natalie crept into the room, the man behind the desk walked around it; he was about six feet tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms, had dark red hair trimmed neatly and pale blue eyes. He would be handsome, she supposed, but there was something _off_ about him, something about the lack of emotion in those eyes, about the way he gazed at her as if she was a problem to be eliminated. She’d seen that look before from Mark and a few of the gang members, and felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the heroin withdrawal.

Despite the man being dressed in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up his forearms and the dark grey slacks, he wasn’t some nine-to-five businessman. Oh no, he was something very, _very_ dangerous.

“Heya, boss, sorry we missed the party but we still brought a present!” Lola called out by way of greeting. “Where’s Junior?”

“I thought you were joking,” the man said as he leaned against the front of the desk and folded his muscular arms across his broad chest, a slight frown on his face. “I sent you to clean up a mess, not to create a new headache for me.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Lola crooned. “DeSantis now owes us a favor, and here’s a new toy for Junior.” Lola grabbed onto Natalie’s arm and yanked her forward. “Or you. Or the guys, since she’s already broken in. You know how those gangs go about things.”

“Fuck you,” Natalie spat as she tried to the pull free, unwilling to be used like that again – she was fine with being killed, but no one was going to rape her ever again.

She was so busy struggling against Lola’s iron grip on her arm, she missed the fact that someone else had entered the room.

“Pedophilia? That’s a new low even for you, Lola. Kill the girl if you must, but no one’s going to touch her otherwise.”

The words so closely echoed Natalie’s thoughts that it took a moment to register that they’d been spoken in a British accent, along with a good amount of contempt. Only when Lola clucked her tongue in annoyance and let go of Natalie’s arm (not that she could run anywhere with Romero at her back) was Natalie able to turn enough to see the other woman – a woman and a child.

The new woman was also blonde, but the hair color appeared natural, the light gold strands falling down her back in loose waves. She was tiny, fine-boned and shorter than Natalie’s 5’2”, and pretty even though she appeared worn out. The boy who stuck close to her left side was also small-boned and maybe around six years old, and had to be the redheaded man’s son since he possessed the same color hair (in loose curls) and pale blue eyes (full of wariness as he searched the office as if looking for signs of danger). Natalie felt a rare urge to gather the child to her side and protect him from the monsters in the room, but his mother (or so she assumed) seemed intent on doing that job.

“Nice to see where you draw the line, Mary. Torture is fine, hmm?” Lola ‘smiled’ at the British woman, and judging from the nastiness in the expression and the scowl directed back at her, there was no love lost between the two.

“Just put a bullet in her head and get it over with,” Mary said, both hands on the boy’s shoulders as he stood silently in front of her while the adults talked about death; Natalie noticed that he was dressed in plain dark blue pajamas which were large on his slight frame, and it appeared that he had some sort of bandage wrapped around his chest. “Why is she even here?” That question was directed at the man by the desk (her husband?).

The man ‘smiled’, an expression without any warmth which made the woman stiffen and the child press back against her legs. “Lola was kind enough to bring a present for Nathaniel’s birthday.” The room grew quiet (save for the slight chattering of Natalie’s teeth as she shivered from withdrawal) while the man regarded his son – Nathaniel. “Well, boy? What do you think we should do?” The ‘smile’ remained on the man’s face as he spoke, yet his eyes fixed upon his son much like a snake did when it locked on its prey.

Nathaniel was still until Natalie caught the long, slender (bone-like) fingers clench quickly on his shoulders, then he turned his head to look at her for several seconds; she stared back and recognized a fellow soul trapped in an existence where they had almost no power, where all they could do was survive as best possible, survive all the pain and abuse while desperately seeking some sort of escape.

An escape which seemed utterly elusive, no matter what they did.

Which was why she wasn’t surprised nor upset with the boy (Nathaniel) when he answered in a quiet voice. “Kill her.” His mother’s expression never changed yet her fingers relaxed on his shoulders while Lola laughed with glee and Romero grunted as if surprised.

The man gazed at his son for several seconds before nodding once. “And why is that?”

The boy nibbled on his plump bottom lip for a moment before he spoke again. “If she has no purpose, kill her. She’s probably heard too much.”

The man nodded again. “It’s good to know you learn things eventually. Yes, dead men, or girls, tell no tales. However,” the man straightened up and approached Natalie, “it may be that I’ve a use for her.” He reached for her hair, strong fingers grabbing it tight when she tried to flinch away. “How old are you?”

For a moment, she thought to spit in the man’s face, then caught the slight shake of the head Mary gave in a clear warning, the bleakness on Nathaniel’s face now that the man’s back was to them. “Thirteen,” Natalie gritted out as her fingers twitched to hold one of her missing knives, to shove it into the man’s belly; her instincts warned her that he was _dangerous_.

“And your name?”

“Nah-natalie Shields.”

That bit of truth provoked a slim smile from the man and a slight lessening of the tension on her hair. “And is anyone expecting you at home, _Natalie_ Shields?”

She contemplated silence again, but they could easily find out from Mark or others in the gang. “No. Father’s dead, mom’s an alcoholic.” That was bit of a simplification, but she wasn’t giving these bastards her life story.

“And you’re a druggie, probably heroin, judging from what your gang sells,” the man commented in an analytical tone as he twisted her head about for a few seconds before he let go as if disgusted; he pulled out a piece of cloth to wipe his hands as he faced his wife and son once more. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I could use some good PR after the latest ‘unfounded rumor’,” for some reason Lola’s smile disappeared and Romero shifted about as if uncomfortable, “so it’s fitting that these two are going to spend the next couple weeks setting things in motion to make it look as if Natalie has run away from home and been entered into the Baltimore foster care system, where I’ve stumbled across her and decided to give her a second chance out of the goodness of my heart.”

There was a muttered curse from Lola and a slight groan of complaint from Romero, but they quickly nodded when the man glanced their way.

“How kind of you,” Mary drawled as she gazed at her husband with evident disdain. “What’s the catch?”

“Junior gets a playmate and a lesson in responsibility.” The man gave one of his chilling smiles as he grabbed the front of the boy’s pajamas and jerked him onto his toes. “Consider this training for the future, boy. You’re going to learn that what other people do have repercussions for you, because as of now, every time the girl fucks up? I’m taking it out on you. Better hope she’s a fast learner.”

Natalie went to complain about that, about a child being responsible for her, but Lola grabbed her arm once again and jerked her close to hiss in her ear. “Oh no sugar, just be quiet. Here’s your only free warning, _never_ go against Nathan Wesninski on _anything_ , and dear Mary can be a right proper bitch when you put her son in danger. Keep your mouth shut and behave.”

She missed whatever the boy said to his father, along with Mary, but not the backhanded slap Nathan doled out to his wife. Natalie tensed at the casual violence, once again filled with a desperate longing for her knives, but before she could find a suitable replacement in the room, Nathan ordered her taken away so she could begin her ‘clean-up’.

That turned out to be a cell-like room in the basement, past an area that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a mortuary with its stainless-steel tables and wash basins… except for the straps on the tables. Natalie shuddered at the overwhelming stench of bleach and didn’t resist as she was hauled past the area, then pushed into a room with a concrete floor (and a drain in the center), a cot with a blanket and pillow, a sink and a toilet.

She had the impression that Wesninski was used to locking people up (and worse).

The shivering had grown worse by the time Mary eventually entered the room with a plastic bag. “I brought you some clothes, a few energy bars and something to drink.” She set the bag down by her feet and folded her arms across her chest in a defensive position; despite being so small and dressed in long skirt with a frilly blouse as if she’d come from a party, Natalie didn’t get the impression of weakness from the woman, that she was an easy mark. Not with the coldness in her pale grey eyes and the way she took in Natalie’s wretched state without pity. “I figured they’d just dump you in here without anything.”

“Thu-thank you.”

“How much were you using? How long?”

Natalie blinked at the questions as she dug her fingers into the thin mattress on the cot. “Uhm… a few months,” she admitted; she’d resisted turning to drugs as long as she could, but the awful memories, the feel of hands (and worse) on her each night when she’d fallen asleep, and the hopelessness had eventually worn her down. “I tried to not use much, only enough to… to….” She bit into her bottom lip as her stomach clenched hard, her body wracked with nausea and pain.

“If you’re telling the truth, it shouldn’t be too bad.” Mary huffed as she shook free a cigarette from the pack she’d pulled from a pocket in the skirt. “Which is all relative, because it’s gonna still be bloody awful, but maybe it means you’ve got a bit of brains, eh?” She gazed steadily at Natalie while she lit the cigarette. “Here’s the deal. I’ll help out however I can, will keep those wankers away from you, slip you some meds to lessen the withdrawal, and you? You do whatever the hell Nathan tells you without any fuck-ups, you understand? Because if he takes it out on my son, I’ll take it out twice as much on you.”

“Got it,” Natalie agreed as she struggled not to vomit in the woman’s presence.

“You better,” Mary warned before she left; once the door closed behind her, Natalie raced to the toilet to throw up the few contents in her stomach.

She didn’t get much sleep that night in the cold room, not with the misery steadily increasing as her body suffered from the lack of drugs, as it insisted that she give it what it craved. The Gatorade helped (whenever she could keep it down), but she couldn’t make herself eat the protein bars.

She was grateful when Mary showed up the next day with fresh sheets, more Gatorade, protein drinks and bottles of meds: mild pain relievers, anti-nausea pills and muscle relaxers. The woman looked Natalie over for a few seconds after she set the bag on the floor then left.

The next several days blurred together for Natalie as she struggled against her addiction; she was only mildly aware of Mary dropping off more supplies, of someone gathering up the pile of soiled clothes and linens, of someone covering her shivering form with a soft blanket while a high-pitched voice sung her to sleep, where she dreamed of being trapped on a boat in the middle of the sea during a raging storm.

That was during the worst of the withdrawal; Natalie woke with a dry throat, a terrible headache, muscles sore and weak, to find herself wrapped in a soft, pale grey blanket. She touched it with reverence as a snippet of a song filled her head, of drunken sailors being tied to the mast and flogged, then noticed the two oranges left at the foot of the bed.

She didn’t hesitate to grab them with trembling hands and fumbled to peel away the rind on one of them to get at the juicy insides. The rush of tangy citrus on her tongue made her groan in delight, even if her stomach threatened to rebel at first; she waited for the nausea to pass before she continued eating. The second orange was almost gone when Mary arrived for the day.

The woman’s eyes narrowed when she spied Natalie wrapped in the blanket and then the orange rinds, but all she did was set the bag down on the floor. “You appear semi-coherent for once.”

“Yu-yes.” Natalie cleared her throat and repeated the word. “It’s, uhm, better today.”

“About time.” Mary wrinkled her nose and nudged the bag with her left foot. “Give yourself a good cleaning and I’ll talk to Nathan about letting you out of here, this place reeks.”

Natalie fought not to blush at the implication that she reeked, too, well aware of how long it had been since she’d had a proper shower. “Thank you.”

Mary sniffed as if unimpressed as she turned to leave. “Don’t thank me, honor your end of our agreement. And if I see you anywhere near drugs again? I’ll chop off your hands.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Natalie murmured to the woman’s back as she left, aware that Mary hadn’t been joking about the threat. Considering what she’d been through the last however many days? Natalie was more than happy to stay the hell away from drugs for the rest of her life.

Once she felt up to it, she had a protein drink to wash down a couple pills to ease the aches in her head and muscles, set about washing up as much as she could using a small towel and the sink, then changed her clothes. It took what felt to be several hours before Lola, a moue of distaste on her face, came to fetch and lead her to a small bedroom on the second floor, warning her all the while to keep to herself and not cause trouble or else.

Natalie only spent a few seconds glancing around the room with the full-sized bed, plush carpet, closet and fancy wood furniture – there was even a small, velvet covered chair in the one corner – before she snatched up a clean change of clothes from the pile that Mary had given her and went into the attached bathroom ( _her own_ bathroom) and locked the door (her own bathroom with a _lock_ ) to wash off at least a week’s worth of grime.

The water ran hot almost instantly, and the soap smelled like flowers. Natalie knew that she could be killed at any moment, knew that she was with murderers and drug dealers, but the only difference from her life in Detroit was that she had her own bathroom in a house with working heat and the softest towels she’d ever felt in her life.

She’d lost weight in the past week or so; the cotton pants and sweater hung on her, and she was exhausted by the time she was dressed, so much that all she could do was curl up on the bed and struggle not to sleep. She was mentally going over one of her distribution routes to stay awake when there was a faint knock on her door.

The noise jerked her upright, the sense of panic only fading when she saw Nathaniel peek into her room. “Heya,” she called out and motioned for the boy to come in.

Nathaniel remained still for a few seconds before he crept into the room, silent on the plush, dark blue carpet. He was dressed in black pants and a black, green and white sweater with a white shirt beneath it, which reminded Natalie of a school uniform. He also had a blossoming bruise on his left cheek, which she forced herself to ignore for the moment. “Did you go to school today?” She’d dropped out shortly after joining the Bloodhounds.

“Yes,” Nathaniel said in that quiet voice of his, his huge blue eyes focused on her as he came to a stop near the bed. “Mum said you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah.” Natalie managed a smile despite her exhaustion. “The oranges really helped.” When the boy didn’t say anything, she slowly reached out to tug on the front of his sweater. “You left them, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted as he ducked his head a little, his hand rising to his bruised cheek for a moment before it fell away. “They make me feel good.”

“Hmm, they did me, too. Thank you.” Nathaniel didn’t respond at first, but eventually raised his face to give her a sad look.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” Natalie lay back against the pillows as she attempted to figure out why the boy was apologizing. “What for?”

Nathaniel bit into his full bottom lip while he toyed with the hem of his sweater; he would be a heartbreaker when he grew up, she was willing to bet. “For telling Dad to kill you. Mum always says… well, it’s better to die quickly than to be stuck here,” he admitted in an even quieter voice than before.

Natalie’s smile faded as she resisted the urge to rub at the tattoo inked on her back. “I’m not mad at you about that,” she told the boy. “It’s okay.”

He gazed at her with those incredible eyes of his, filled with too much awful understanding and pain for a child so young (how old was he?) before he nodded once. “Do you like Exy?”

The question took Natalie by surprise. “Ah, a little? We played it a few times at school, it was fun.”

Nathaniel underwent a transformation; his eyes lit up with happiness and pale face flushed with excitement. “I love it! I play backliner, and Coach tells me I’m really good!”

A small child like him was a backliner? Natalie smiled and patted the bed beside her. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

He nodded and climbed onto the bed with an ease which made her rethink that he was so young, that perhaps his small size was more due to his mother than from age.

Natalie pushed aside her exhaustion and concerns for the future and let the boy she’d tied herself to tell her all about Exy.

*******

Nathaniel groaned when Natalie pulled their school bags onto the backseat between them. “Ah, already?” he complained, still excited from their win that afternoon.

“If you start now, we’ll be done by the time we reach home,” his foster sister chided as she opened her history book.

“But I-“

“ _But you’ll be done by the time we reach home, won’t you, Abram_ ,” his mother said in French from the front seat, her tone mild but eyes narrowed when she glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

“ _Yes, ma’am_ ,” he answered as he pulled out his math book; he figured he’d at least start with something fun and avoid angering her anymore.

From provoking her temper once they reached home.

“ _How’s the essay coming along, Lee?_ ” Mary asked as she followed their bodyguards’ car back to Baltimore.

Natalie frowned at her notebook for a moment before she looked up. “ _I finished it earlier, ma’am. Would you please look at it when we get home?_ ”

“ _Of course. Your last one showed a lot of improvement, I’m sure this one will be much the same_.”

Natalie smiled at the praise, at least until Nathaniel made a faint gagging sound and nudged her in the side, which made her roll her eyes and nudge him back – then Mary clicked her tongue once before she lit a cigarette, but since she hummed as she rolled the window down a little to let out the smoke, they knew she was amused by their antics and not angry.

It was much better when she wasn’t angry.

He finished his math homework then moved on to geography and nodded in thanks when Natalie corrected his mistakes. In return, he reached over to write the answers she missed on her own math assignment, going over the formulas until she smiled in gratitude.

As long as Nathaniel had been aware, it had always been him and his mother against everyone else in their lives, against his father and the people who answered to him, against the strangers who were useless in standing up to the powerful man, who couldn’t provide any help or would just end up dead from his hands. Nathaniel could only rely upon his mother, could only trust her, and was surprised when their tiny circle grew to include Natalie.

He’d only had to be punished for her a couple times, and those soon after her arrival; he didn’t know why she and his mother had been upset, since his father usually found some sort of excuse to hurt him, but it was obvious that Natalie did her best to follow any orders given. She’d let Lola dye her hair black (Nathaniel missed the blue), spent a lot of time studying since she hadn’t been in school for a while, and gave her all to Exy and knife practice.

(Nathaniel was happy to have a friend on the team and someone to practice Exy with at home, but could do without another reason to learn how to use knives.)

They finished their homework before they reached the house, so spent the rest of the drive practicing French for Natalie’s sake; she’d become mostly fluent in the past year. She was in the middle of going over her day when they pulled into the long driveway, her voice trailing off when they noticed Lola’s flashy BMW parked near the house.

“Be quiet,” Mary warned as she put the car into park.

“Yes, ma’am,” Nathaniel and Natalie murmured as they gathered their school bags before they left the car; one of the men would bring their Exy gear inside.

As soon as they entered the house to find Lola dressed in tight black leggings, black sneakers and a red tank top beneath a black leather jacket, Nathaniel felt his good mood from Exy evaporate. “There they are,” the woman cooed as she clasped her hands together. “The precious champions.” She reached out to tap him on the nose while he forced himself to remain still, to not show any emotion. “You made your father proud today, Junior, helping to shut down the goal. Now come along and continue to do a good job, yes? You and Natalie.”

“They haven’t eaten yet,” Mary gritted out as she stepped forward, in front of Nathaniel and Natalie.

Lola made a tsking sound as she waved her right hand in the air as if to dismiss Mary’s concern. “A little hunger won’t hurt them. Might make they fight better, no?” When Mary continued to stare at her, she sighed and fisted her hands on her hips. “Nathan’s orders,” she sang out. “They practice now or they deal with him for disobeying. Which will it be?”

Nathaniel thought he heard his mother mutter ‘cunt’ beneath her breath as she turned to face him and Natalie. “Go change. I’ll have dinner waiting for you as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said before they hurried to obey; Nathaniel wrinkled his nose when Natalie pointed out that wasn’t it a good thing, them being done with their homework now?

Once they were in sweatpants and t-shirts (in clothes that no one cared about being ruined), they went down to the basement; Lola was there waiting for them, an array of blades set out on the one table. Nathaniel felt a rush of relief that there weren’t any animals around for ‘practice’ nor anyone else, at least until Lola smiled at him as she picked up a long blade.

“Come, Junior, let’s see what you’ve got.”

He shared a quick look with Natalie before he chose a knife that fit well into his palm but was heavy enough to block Lola’s, then stepped into the center of the large room.

These fights never ended in his favor, not when Lola, not when his _father_ , were older and bigger than him, were stronger. When they knew so much more than he did. Natalie told him he was faster, though, and that his speed and small size could be an advantage. He kept that in mind as Lola beat him back again and again, as she left minor cuts all over his forearms and shoulders, the slight stings of pain potent reminders to get his guard up faster, to brace himself better. He held out until his knees began to tremble from exhaustion, and when Lola’s smile twitched a touch wider, prepared himself for her to come in for the kill.

Nathaniel let his knees give out and swung around on the floor; it earned him the tip of Lola’s knife digging in along the top of his left shoulder and upper back, but he ignored the pain as he swiped the blade of the knife along the flesh behind her right knee – where her popliteal artery was located.

“Fuck, you little shit!” Lola cried out before she started giggling. “Oh Junior, you are your father’s child after all!” She reached down to haul him up by the back of his shirt, seeming unconcerned about choking him along the way. “Now tell Lola the truth, yes,” she insisted as she gave his left cheek a harsh pinch. “Someone’s been practicing on the side, haven’t they?”

He glanced at Natalie, who nodded. “Ah, a little, whenever we have the time,” he admitted. He felt more comfortable learning from Natalie than he did from Lola or his father.

“It gives us something to do, and we’re more evenly matched,” Natalie added. “We didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“Be careful how much you ‘think’ for yourself, sugar,” Lola warned with a cold smile before she patted Nathaniel on the head. “But Nathan should be pleased to know his boy is making some progress at last. Go upstairs and let the bitch take care of your latest boo-boo.”

“My mum’s not a bitch,” Nathaniel spat out, unable to bear his mother being insulted; he wasn’t surprised when Lola slapped him for speaking out.

“She’s whatever I say she is,” Lola said with a mocking smile. “Don’t talk back, Junior, not when it’s been a good day for once.”

He almost said something else, but Natalie gave him a pleading look so he left without arguing anymore – not so much for his sake, but because she still had to deal with Lola.

(He wondered what would have happened if he’d truly pressed the blade of his knife through the flesh behind Lola’s knee.)

His mother clenched her jaw and pressed her lips together when she saw him, saw his torn and bloodstained shirt, but the cuts only needed a few stitches for once. By the time Natalie stumbled upstairs, bruised and sporting myriad scratches of her own, Nathaniel’s stomach felt settled enough to eat once his foster sister changed her clothes. Dinner wasn’t much, was tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, but Mary sat with them while they ate and promised strawberries the next day.

The latest wounds hurt, especially when Nathaniel practiced Exy, but he didn’t mind it so much since it was one of those rare times when his father was away on ‘business’. When so long as he did well at school and Exy practice, that he didn’t talk back and suffered through the knife fighting lessons… things were almost ‘good’.

His mother packed fruit in their lunches and didn’t seem too sad, didn’t have to hide bruises all the time. He didn’t have to make up excuses for anything other than the cut on his shoulder. Natalie smiled a bit more and baked shortbread cookies one day when Lola, Romero and Patrick weren’t around.

It was nice.

However, soon enough it came to an end; they returned from a game to find Nathan at home. As soon as they were inside, he dragged them into the basement (and slapped Mary when she brought up them needing to eat), where they stood off to the side and watched him take apart a drug dealer who had attempted to sell information to the Feds. While Nathan skinned the man alive then chopped away at his limbs, he quizzed them on their grades and last two games until satisfied with their answers. Next, he interrogated them on the best way to go about removing fingers or separating joints, Nathaniel and Natalie forced to speak above the victim’s hoarse screams.

They were finally let go around midnight, too exhausted and numb to eat anything.

Nathaniel didn’t know what was worse, when his father was disgusted with him and showed it with abuse, or found him of some little worth and saw to his ‘education’.

It was late summer, right before school would start again and Natalie had begun dropping hints of what she wanted for her upcoming birthday (to Mary and Nathaniel); they were out in the far back of the yard, away from the road and the house, practicing their knife fighting since something was going on in the house and Mary had forbidden them their Exy gear since she didn’t want any ‘balls flying about’.

“ _You got a new computer for Christmas, you can’t ask for another one_ ,” Nathaniel said as he circled his foster sister.

“ _Well, I could, but that is a bit greedy, isn’t it_?” She seemed to think it over while she feinted a couple times. “ _What about a phone_?”

“ _Who are you going to call_?” He rolled his eyes and barely managed to block a swipe at his face.

“ _True_.” She smiled as she twisted away from a jab at her left kidney. “ _Hmm, I think I want a Brine racquet! Their new Atlas line looks amazing_!”

Nathaniel gasped and almost didn’t block a stab at his liver. “ _No fair! Christmas isn’t for another three months, and my birthday a month after that_!”

“ _Not my fault that you have to wait for the good stuff_ ,” Natalie teased while she danced out of reach. “ _You just_ -“ they both paused when they noticed someone approach from the house. When they recognized who the person was, they hurried to stand shoulder to shoulder (or almost, Natalie was still a few inches taller than Nathaniel) and gave a respectful bow with their knives held behind their backs.

“Moriyama, sir,” they said at the same time to the younger Moriyama, Ichirou, who nodded in acknowledgement then stood there gazing at them.

“ _What do we call him_?” Nathaniel murmured to Natalie as they straightened up. “ _Not ‘lord’ like his dad, right?_ _Something in Japanese, maybe_?”

“ _Hmm, we need to figure that out, we’ll look it up later_ ,” she answered before she gave a slight smile to the teenager, who now frowned at them for some reason. “Hello.”

“Do you always talk in a foreign language in front of a person like that?” Ichirou asked; he was a couple years older than Natalie, around seventeen if Nathaniel remembered correctly, and was dressed in black slacks and a dark grey dress shirt.

“Uhm, we were trying to figure out what to call you,” Nathaniel confessed, worried about upsetting the teenager. “Sir.” His mother had stressed to them about the importance of the Moriyamas, whom his father respected for some reason. “Is there a Japanese title?”

“Yes, we’ve heard it said that your father is a lord, so what does that make you?” Natalie asked. “A lord, too, or something else?”

Ichirou continued to frown for a moment then smiled as if pleased. “Ichirou, for now. I saw the two of you practicing and was intrigued. You’re rather good for your age.”

Nathaniel felt his cheeks grow warm and ducked his head; usually Lola and his father were on him to improve, so such praise was rare. “Thank you.”

“We try, sir, though Ram would rather be practicing Exy.” At Ichirou’s curious look, Natalie gestured to Nathaniel.

“Ah, yes, your middle name,” Ichirou guessed. “And I said you’re to call me ‘Ichirou’. I hear you’re both talented at the sport, especially ‘Ram’.” He gave Nathaniel a considering look. “Which is good, because-“ He was interrupted by a beeping noise, which turned out to be his phone; his expression grew annoyed when he took it out of his pocket and checked its screen. “It seems they’ve already noticed that I slipped away,” he sighed as he gazed up at them. “Enjoy your free time while it lasts, and I’d start learning Japanese if I were you. It’ll come in handy.”

They watched him walk away, moving only when he was out of their sight. “ _He seemed almost normal_ ,” Nathaniel mused as he went to where they’d left a couple bottles of water. “ _Well, you know_ ….” Whatever ‘normal’ was. ‘Not ‘their’ normal. Ichirou was nice and didn’t talk down to them or smack them around.

“ _Yeah, which is surprising, but it’s his father who deals with Nathan_.” Natalie’s dark brows drew together as she grabbed a bottle as well. “ _Maybe he was trying to tell us that the two will be working together more with that Japanese comment_.”

“ _Might be fun. It’ll give us something to do_.” They weren’t allowed to watch television or access the internet unless it was for schoolwork, and only left the house for classes or Exy. Nathaniel flipped his knife in the air with his free hand as he thought about the latter. “ _I wonder if Ichirou is related to Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama_?”

Natalie moaned before she shoved Nathaniel’s left shoulder hard enough to nearly make him fall over. “ _Enough Exy for now! Finish your water then prepare to die_.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and laughed when she splashed water in his face.

*******

Natalie slowly sipped water and watched over Nathaniel as he hesitantly talked Exy with Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day; her younger brother had finally overcome his shyness at being confronted with two of his ‘heroes’ after playing with them for several hours, especially when they commented on his backliner skills.

They weren’t quite so impressed with Natalie, but that was all right; she had only been playing regularly for two years, since being ‘fostered’ by the Wesninskis, and while she gave the sport her all, she knew that the younger boys were better than her. Riko and Kevin had been playing since they were old enough to run and hold a stick, and Nathaniel since he was six years old. Natalie was good, but there was something special about the three boys.

That and at fifteen, almost sixteen years old, she was three years older than them (and a _girl_ ), so it was understandable that Riko and Kevin kept their distance. Nathaniel had tried to include her at first, never one to care about her sex or their age difference (that she was a _girl_ ), but she told him not to worry and have fun with his new friends.

Especially since she wasn’t sure if they’d be back to Charleston and Edgar Allan again, just to play Exy with the nephew and ward of the man who had invented the sport. She wondered if Tetsuji Moriyama was related to Kengo after all, but that didn’t explain why Nathan had allowed them what was basically a rare treat like this. The farthest she’d been away from the house in Baltimore was for Exy practice and games, and that was so the coaches wouldn’t figure out Nathaniel’s real identity. Yet Tetsuji hadn’t batted an eye when he’d introduced the two of them to Riko and Kevin by their real names.

There was also the fact that Mary wasn’t pleased about the trip, even though Nathaniel was the happiest Natalie had seen him in… well, ever. The woman sat in the stands and watched her son like a starving hawk over a plump rabbit while she chain-smoked, barely acknowledging the times when Nathaniel waved in her direction.

Nathan was nowhere in sight.

Natalie tried to figure out if there’d been any particularly _bad_ fights between Mary and Nathan lately when Nathaniel ran toward her, trailed by Riko and Kevin. “They’re gonna show us around the Nest after we wash off! We’ll get to see where the Court stays!”

She forced a smile as she replaced the lid on the mostly empty bottle of water. “That’s nice of them.” She reached out to tousle her brother’s sweat-damp hair. “Maybe one day we’ll be back as Court!”

Riko, the number ‘1’ inked on his cheek smeared by sweat, sniffed in a derisive manner. “Nathaniel, maybe, but not someone who let in so many shots on their goal.” Kevin nodded in agreement, as always going along with whatever Riko said.

Nathaniel flushed at the insult even though Natalie merely smiled and shrugged. “She didn’t let that many shots in! Lee is one of the best goalies in our division and has really come far in the last two years.”

“It’s okay, Nat,” Natalie murmured, conscious not to call him by his usual nickname around strangers; it always warmed her, the way he acted as her defender – unless he tried to stand up to his father or his father’s people. “I’m nothing compared to a Raven.”

“I’m glad you recognize that,” Riko said in what he probably thought was a haughty manner (probably tried to imitate his uncle) but couldn’t quite pull off; Natalie was good at hiding her emotions and managed not to smile. Then the kid revealed his true age by squirming in impatience. “Come on, hurry up so I can show you around!”

Kevin rambled on about how old Evermore was and some facts about the stadium as the four of them headed to the locker rooms, at least until Riko groaned and declared that no one wanted to know those boring facts. Natalie gave the gangly boy an appreciative smile before she slipped away to the women’s locker room to shower and change back into jeans and a red t-shirt. Once her shoulder-length hair was towel-dried, she pulled it back into a ponytail and went out into the hallway, and wasn’t surprised to find Mary waiting out there, smoking a cigarette.

Mary gave her a curt nod and focused her attention on the men’s locker room, her shoulders slumping slightly when a laughing Nathaniel came out with Riko and Kevin. He fell quiet when he spotted his mother, while Riko pulled him along by the hold on his arm. “Come, you need to see the trophy room first!”

Mary’s lips pressed together, but she stepped out of the way to allow Riko past, then followed close behind her son. Natalie was grateful that she hadn’t argued over the tour, and noticed how Kevin gazed after the British woman with a sad expression for a few seconds before rattling off various statistics about the Ravens’ past wins.

It was right around when Riko groaned and once again chided his friend to be quiet that one of the Japanese men whom Natalie had seen near Tetsuji appeared (an assistant coach?) and told them they were to follow. Mary wasn’t happy about what seemed to be an order while Riko complained about the tour being interrupted, but the five of them did as they’d been bid.

Riko and Kevin continued to point out things as they wound their way through the Nest, finally arriving at an elevator that took them up to one of four towers – the East Tower, apparently. “It’s where the really important people watch the games,” Riko babbled on in excitement, while Mary was once more filled with a tension that made Natalie and Nathaniel grow anxious and press against the other for protection.

(Natalie had been made to leave her knives at home but was certain that Mary was armed.)

They were let out on what looked to be the top floor, the windows (reinforced) granting a glimpse at the stadium and campus below. Riko was practically bouncing on his toes and Kevin smiling in excitement, while Mary latched on to Nathaniel’s narrow shoulders.

(Natalie prepared herself for the worst, since that was never a good sign.)

As soon as they entered a large room with a panoramic view onto the stadium below, Riko and Kevin’s excitement was wiped away; along with Tetsuji and a couple of his ‘assistant coaches’ was Nathan with his dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top buttons undone, a meat cleaver in hand as he stood before an unknown man strung up on his tiptoes, stripped down to his cotton boxers and sobbing in terror, positioned in the middle of a plastic tarp.

“Un-uncle?” Riko stuttered out as he stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him.

(Oh yes, definitely not a good sign.)

“Be quiet, boy. Watch and learn,” Tetsuji commanded in a harsh voice without even looking at his nephew.

Kevin murmured something to Riko about it being a joke, but was hushed by his friend; Natalie knew it wasn’t a joke, especially when Nathan glanced their way with _that_ particular smirk curving his full lips while he twirled the handle of the meat cleaver between his fingers.

“’Bout time I get to have some fun,” the Butcher drawled as he raised his weapon to the sobbing man and cut off his right ear with a deliberate slowness.

It was one of those times when Nathan merely destroyed one of his victims, when he didn’t bother with questions, which meant all that pain and brutality was for show or to send a message. Natalie didn’t care about the reason, really, not when she and Nathaniel had to stand there and watch, to take it all in since Nathan might quiz them later (did you see how it reacted to me separating its ribs? You think there’s a better way to go about prying its teeth loose?); they’d learned over time how to compartmentalize without blacking things out.

_They_ had.

Riko and then Kevin threw up at some point, had broken down in tears as the stranger (the piece of meat) was methodically rendered into parts. Mary made a tsking sound when its intestines spilled out onto the tarp and lit yet another cigarette, but Natalie and Nathaniel remained utterly still, as they’d been taught to down in the basement, not to move unless Nathan asked for a new tool or for them to come closer to inspect his work (to help out).

She thought she saw out of the corner of her left eye Riko gazing at them with an incredulous expression, but didn’t turn to make certain.

(Was he really related to Kengo and Ichirou? How could he be so… innocent?)

Eventually, there wasn’t anything left for Nathan to hack apart, the victim reduced to lumps of meat spread across the tarp. He grunted as he dropped the cleaver and accepted a damp towel from one of the assistants to wipe his bloody hands and face clean. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

That seemed to be directed at Mary, who pursed her lips and nodded as she tugged on Nathaniel’s shoulders to indicate that they were leaving. Natalie turned around to follow, and noticed the shell-shocked expressions on Riko’s and Kevin’s faces.

If Tetsuji was related to Kengo, he’d done a poor job of training his wards; such a display shouldn’t have left them in that condition.

They hadn’t even lifted a finger to take the man apart.

One of Tetsuji’s assistants drove them to the airport; Mary bought them dinner at one of the restaurants by their gate and insisted they eat even though she only drank two glasses of wine. As always, the server and the flight attendants made a fuss over Nathaniel and how ‘adorable’ he was and gave Natalie odd looks because of her darker skin and hair (for her being an Asian with two Caucasians bearing different last names), but a stern look from Mary kept them from asking any questions and their hands off her son.

“ _I bet if you grew your hair out and wore a dress, they’d think you were a girl,”_ Natalie teased her brother in French; Mary didn’t like it when they practiced Japanese in front of her.

As always, Nathaniel never seemed bothered by being called a girl. “So?” He frowned as he rubbed his right shoulder, where the old iron scar was burned into his skin. “ _I could have showered with you then, today_.”

Ah, she wondered if he’d been bothered by the locker room at Edgar Allan with its open showers. “ _Did they say anything?_ ” she asked in a whisper.

Nathaniel bit into his bottom lip as his gaze darted to his right, where Mary was busy looking something up on her phone, then gave a quick nod.

There was nothing Natalie could do about it now, and most likely they’d never see the two boys again. Most likely, Riko and Kevin would always remember what had happened in the East Tower and forget all about Nathaniel’s scars.

Scars left by the same man who’d chopped up a person in front of them (for the most part).

Mary shushed them quiet after that, and any other time they tried to speak. She appeared unusually agitated, enough to put Natalie and Nathaniel on edge.

Even more on edge, considering that they lived with a mobster/serial killer and the murderers who enjoyed doing his bidding.

Natalie had thought that she’d grown up inured to violence: the way her father had beat her and her mother without a care, the terrible initiation into the Bloodhounds which she’d suffered through because it was that or be vulnerable to the men her mother owed money to for alcohol and drugs, the ‘obey or play in blood’ code of the gang. That was nothing compared to what existed within the walls of Nathan Wesninski’s home: the casual way he brutalized his own family, the nonchalant acts of horror that were committed on an almost daily basis in the basement, the way that lives were snuffed out with malicious glee.

She’d gotten used to it, accepted the hits and cuts when she messed up, the guilt when Nathaniel suffered because of her, the constant sense of fear which morphed into a bone-deep weariness after a while because if Nathan or Lola or Patrick was going to kill her one day… what could she do? She got up, she did the best she could, she was there for Nathaniel and she kept going. She had a foster brother who was more family to her than her own parents had ever been, a warm bed to lie in at night, a roof over her head, three meals a day (most of the time), and no one _touched_ her (other than to punish).

It was a bit ironic, that living with the Butcher of Baltimore was an improvement in her life.

Mary ordered Natalie and Nathaniel to bed as soon as they returned home, and they went upstairs without complaint. However, Natalie was too on edge from the strangeness of the day, of Mary’s behavior, to fall asleep; would Nathan target Nathaniel when he came home? Mary? There wasn’t much she could do if he went after his wife (and Mary wouldn’t thank her if she interfered), but Nathaniel might try something.

Natalie lay in her bed and listened to the faint creaks while Mary seemed to roam the house, restless for some reason ( _Nathan_ ), then eventually settle in the master bedroom. She tensed when Nathan finally returned home, anxious to hear his heavy footsteps approach Nathaniel’s room next door, but forced herself to relax when he went to the master bedroom instead. There were raised voices, which wasn’t unusual, which quieted down after several minutes.

(Natalie hated the small part of herself that was grateful it was Mary dealing with Nathan and not herself or Nathaniel.)

Despite the lack of noise, she still couldn’t fall asleep, so when the floorboards outside her room creaked ever so quietly, she sat up in a rush then crept out of bed; was someone trying to hurt Nathaniel? Lola, perhaps, up to her tricks? Or had someone snuck into the house? Snatching one of her knives along the way, she moved as quietly as possible and only opened her bedroom door wide enough to slip through it.

When she saw Mary, fully dressed with a duffel bag slung over her left shoulder about to sneak into Nathaniel’s room, Natalie was too stunned to whisper. “Mary? What are you doing?”

“Shut your gob and go back to bed,” Mary hissed in a furious whisper. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Mum?” Nathaniel’s sleepy voice called out from his room, which made Mary’s eyes close and her expression turn into something like despair. As she leaned into the room to order him to be quiet in a hushed voice, Natalie flinched as the hall lights were turned on.

She felt the urge to crouch down and present as small a target as possible when Nathan’s heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. “Well, well, is there a slumber party no one told me about?” he asked as Mary went still in the doorway to Nathaniel’s bedroom. “Those are some odd pajamas, Mary _dear_.”

Mary turned to face her husband (abuser) with an utter lack of emotion. “I was just checking on Nathaniel before going to bed.”

“Of course.” Nathan walked past Natalie with _that_ smile on his face and reached out to remove the duffel bag from his wife’s shoulder. “I’m sure the big day tomorrow has you all emotional.” He unzippered the bag to look inside it, and for a moment, the cruel smile slipped, only to return with full force as he slung the bag over his own left shoulder. “Oh Mary, you’ve been naughty, haven’t you?”

She remained silent while Nathaniel peeked out the door at his parents. “Natalie, see to it that Nathaniel goes back to bed,” Nathan ordered while he reached out to grab Mary’s left wrist. “The two of us are going to have an adult discussion. I’ll be very upset if either of you leave the second floor before someone tells you to.”

“Yes, sir,” Natalie murmured, suspecting it would be a very bad thing to disobey the Butcher right then; she only moved when he dragged Mary past her, and hurried to prevent Nathaniel from following his mother. “ _No, Abram_ ,” she whispered in French. “ _Not now_.”

“ _What’s he going to do to Mum_?” he whispered back as he watched his mother be taken away, concern bright in his eyes and voice wavering with emotion, but no sign of tears. In her two years of living with him, Natalie had yet to see him cry.

She suspected the lack of tears had as much to do with Mary as with Nathan.

“ _I don’t know, but she’d want to you listen to your father, so let’s go to bed.”_ She tugged him back to his room, where she curled up on his bed with him; they both were small enough that they easily fit on it. Nathaniel didn’t fall asleep right away, not when he seemed to be listening for his mother to return, but gave in to exhaustion eventually. It took longer for Natalie, who felt guilty for getting Mary in trouble, inadvertently or not.

Had she been trying to run away with Nathaniel? If so, why _now_?

She found out the answer to the question in the morning, when Patrick DiMaccio led them down to the formal dining room for breakfast. A smug Nathan sat at the head of the table, with a quiet and bruised Mary perpendicular to him. She wore a robe which didn’t entirely hide the bandages wrapped around her upper chest, neck and forearms, and there were more on her fingers.

A faint cry slipped past Nathaniel’s lips when he saw his mother, but fortunately he was far enough away from his father that the man didn’t hear. Nathan, dressed as if ready for a day in the office, pointed at the two seats across from Mary. “Sit.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathaniel and Natalie said in quiet, respectful voices as they hurried to obey. Mary cast a sad look at her son, and a more virulent one at Natalie before she bowed her head. They waited until one of the staff (one of Nathan’s people) placed plates of scrambled eggs and sausage patties in front of them and began to eat (Nathan didn’t approve of them wasting food); they were almost halfway done before Nathan spoke again.

“It seems you’re of some value after all, Junior,” he told Nathaniel after he set aside his empty cup of coffee (which was quickly refilled). “Tetsuji believes you have the talent to be a Raven.”

“I… he does?” Nathaniel asked, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he carefully set his fork aside. “I mean, he does, sir?”

Nathan seemed in a good enough of a mood to allow the slight slip pass without reprimand. “After breakfast, you’re to return to Edgar Allan so he can properly train you.” He smiled, the expression the cruel one which made Nathaniel and Natalie turn wary about the ‘good news’. “You’ll be his responsibility for now on, I wash my hands of you, though I’ll gladly teach you a lesson if I hear that you’re causing him any problems, do you understand?”

“I…,” Nathaniel glanced at his mother, who refused to look at him, “yes, sir. I’m to live there, like Kevin, sir?”

“Like I said, I wash my hands of you,” Nathan repeated.

“Oh.” Nathaniel glanced at Natalie, who did her best to give him an encouraging smile; all that mattered was that one of them got free.

Nathan caught the exchanged and huffed. “I’d planned on putting you to good use, at least,” he directed at Natalie, “but _dear_ Mary asked for a favor and I couldn’t tell her no,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm. “You’ll be going with Nathaniel.”

“I will, sir?” Natalie asked while Nathaniel fumbled for her left hand beneath the table.

Nathan grunted as he motioned for more sausage to be put on his plate, seeming bored with the conversation. “Tetsuji will beat whatever talent you have out of you, and you’ll ensure that Junior stays out of trouble.” The ‘or else’ was left unsaid.

The ‘beat’ part wasn’t encouraging, but Natalie couldn’t see how it would be worse than what she’d already endured in her almost sixteen years so she thanked Nathan as she gave Nathaniel’s hand a quick squeeze then let it go so they could finish their breakfast. Once they were done, they asked to be excused and returned to their rooms, where they found their belongings (such as they were) already being packed.

When Natalie stepped out of her room to check on Nathaniel, she found Mary waiting for her. She tried not to flinch at the sight of the woman’s black eyes and split lip, to not feel even more guilt over what happened the night before. “I’m sor-“

“ _No, it’s too late for that_ ,” Mary hissed in French. “ _Listen to me, I got you out of here so you’ll continue to honor our agreement and watch over Abram. That’s your job. **Do it**_.”

Natalie thought about Mary’s decision to run last night after years of abuse. “ _How bad can it be there_?”

A bitter laugh made a trickle of blood run from Mary’s split lower lip. “ _You’re going there as property, girl. My son is now Moriyama **property**. And not just any Moriyamas, but the side branch.” _At Natalie’s confused look, Mary sneered despite her tattered lip _. “A dog trained to bite is bad enough, but a dog trained to bite that’s been starved on top and beaten down? It’s a thousand times worse, and that’s the side branch – cast off and craving any bit of power they can scavenge. Protect Abram, Lee,”_ Mary ordered before she walked away without looking back.

Natalie slumped against the wall for a moment as she felt the weight of the responsibility which Mary had just placed upon her, as she thought about Mary’s warning.

Then she remembered how she’d endured her initiation into the Hounds, how she’d bided her time to take her revenge on Chris, how she’d managed to thrive in the house of the Butcher. Perhaps she was being handed over as property to this side branch of the Moriyamas (whoever they were, other than tied to Exy and crime), but she’d have Nathaniel by her side.

And Nathaniel – _Abram_ \- was worth so much more than his ability to play Exy, no matter what Nathan Wesninski said.

She forced herself upright and went into her brother’s room, where he stood by his packed suitcase with shimmering eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall, and held out her hand to lead him away. He grasped it without hesitation.

(Nathaniel – _Abram_ was the one person who always believed in her, and she’d never let him down.)

( ** _Never_**.)

*******

Nathaniel helped Natalie to her feet as Tetsuji walked away, done ‘correcting’ them for the day; he’d been dealt two strikes of their ‘Master’s’ cane, while she’d suffered five. “ _No dinner until the court is cleaned_ ,” Tetsuji commanded in Japanese before he left.

“Stuck cleaning court yet again,” Riko taunted as he twirled his racquet between his hands. “You’re getting rather good at that, aren’t you?”

“Just like we’re getting better at blocking you,” Nathaniel fired back while Natalie stood at his side. “You only scored three shots on us this time, _three_.”

Riko’s face grew flushed while Kevin ducked his head as if he didn’t want to take part in the fight. “It’s still three points,” Riko muttered as he puffed out his chest, which bore the number ‘1’ on its jersey.

“Yeah, but that number keeps getting smaller and smaller, and it’s two strikers working against one backliner and goalie,” Nathaniel argued. “ _I_ don’t have a partner.”

Kevin flinched at that and gave him a wounded look while Riko glared. “Have fun being a janitor,” he spat before he stomped off, with Kevin trailing after him, like always.

“ _What that wise_?” Natalie murmured in French as they went to put their racquets, gloves and helmets away then grab the cleaning clothes. “ _He’ll be even more of a pain in the ass now_.”

“ _He’s always a pain in the ass_ ,” Nathaniel said as he handed over a cloth, and grinned when his sister smiled in agreement. “ _Besides, what else can they do to us_?”

“ _Other than more canings and laps, less sleep and food, and being stuck cleaning up all the time?”_ Natalie arched an eyebrow as they headed to the one end of court. “ _There’s always calling Nathan_.”

“ _Yeah, but other than me talking back, we’re being good_ ,” Nathaniel argued. _“I get smacked around for it, but Tetsuji can’t complain about my playing. He even said you’re getting better_.” He hated how the Japanese man beat his sister so much, how Riko and even Kevin mocked her at times, but Natalie was steadily improving, enough that Tetsuji had given her the number ‘9’.

She had little choice but to improve, stuck at the Nest.

Natalie nodded in agreement before they spread out and began cleaning the floor; they had it down to a routine by then, could bend over and run quickly along with the cloth held out in front of them. It became a bit of a race to see who could finish first; Nathaniel was faster, but somehow Natalie had figured out a more efficient method to get the job done that they almost always tied.

They laughed as they fell down in the center of the court, content to rest and be near each other for a few minutes before they went to eat. They may be exhausted most days from the constant practice, sore from pushing so hard and Tetsuji’s beatings, but life at the Nest wasn’t too bad. Yeah, Riko was a spoiled asshole and Kevin followed his lead most times, but it was still better than back home.

Except that Nathaniel missed his mum.

He pushed aside that thought and sat up so they could shower before dinner, and rolled his eyes when Natalie tousled his hair. “Why?”

“Because I can,” she told him with a smug expression. “Let’s go before they tell us dinner is over.”

“All right.”

He enjoyed being able to shower with no one else around, no one to stare at his scars, and waited in the hallway for Natalie to be ready so they could walk together to the main dining hall. They passed some of the older Ravens along the way, who nodded in greeting but otherwise ignored them.

They weren’t Riko, Tetsuji’s nephew raised up in the Nest, or Kevin, Kaleigh Day’s son who’d spent almost half his life there, but two ‘odd’ kids who’d shown up a few months ago and kept to themselves when not practicing Exy, who spoke French and Japanese as much as English.

Who never left the Nest.

Nathaniel’s mother had warned him that his father had ‘sold’ him (and to a lesser extent, Natalie – more like she was ‘thrown in’ with him at Mary’s insistence), a fact which Tetsuji had reinforced upon their arrival at Evermore. The rules for their new life were simple – they obeyed Tetsuji or were broken until all defiance was gone. They excelled at Exy or were worthless. They never left the Nest without permission. They would tell no one the truth about Nathaniel’s father or the Moriyamas.

They weren’t that different from what Nathaniel had put up with back in Baltimore.

There were only a few other Ravens in the dining hall by the time they reached it, paired up as always. Natalie led Nathaniel to the food line, where they were served grilled fish, a bowl of rice, fermented vegetables and an orange. They sat down together, not technically partners since they hadn’t been assigned ones yet, and so unwilling to part until forced to do so.

Nathaniel picked up the chopsticks which Natalie had taught him to use and poked at the vegetables. “ _How about I_ -“

“ _Eat it_ ,” Natalie chided between bites of rice. “ _You caused enough trouble today, and they’re good for you. Maybe they’ll help you grow_.” Amusement shown in her dark eyes as she looked him up and down.

“ _I’m not that small_ ,” Nathaniel muttered before he forced himself to eat the greens. “Blegh.”

“ _Hmm, people are gonna start thinking that ‘3’ you wear stands for your height_ ,” his sister teased.

“ _Lee! That’s mean_.” Nathaniel, who’d begun to peel his orange, threw part of the peel at her, which she caught.

“ _But you’re so cute, you take after Mary, obviously_ ,” Natalie said in a placating manner.

He supposed he should be grateful he took after his mother somehow, considering he looked so much like his father. Nathaniel ducked his head at that thought, then smiled when half of Natalie’s orange ended up on his tray. “ _Thank you. Maybe you’re not so mean_.”

“ _Hmm, to help you grow_.”

He should know better than to try to get the last word in with her by now, so gave up after sticking out his tongue; the tart fruit helped to wash away the awful taste of the vegetables. Natalie directed a pointed look at the rest of his meal, which he focused on finishing before returning to the fruit.

They went to their rooms after dinner, tired and ready for a night’s sleep; Natalie gave him a brief hug before she went on her way. Nathaniel stepped into his room and immediately knew that someone had been there since he always left a pair of shoes just so near the door and they’d been pushed aside, and went looking to see what the intruder had been after.

It didn’t take him long to realize his bed had been soaked, someone (Riko, he knew) having dumped a bucket or two of water on it, and sighed as he stripped off the sheets and duvet so he could pile them outside for the cleaning staff. That left him without any linens for the night, but there was his unknown partner’s unmade bed; he grabbed a couple coats and laid down on it.

He’d spent worse nights, huddled beneath blood-stained sheets and wracked with pain.

Judging from the cool look that Natalie gave Riko in the morning, the asshole had done the same to her bed while they’d ate dinner; Kevin’s inability to meet their eyes was further proof, as was Riko’s smug grin. Nathaniel knew he should be quiet, that he should be ‘good’, as his mother would say (as Natalie would too), but once they were finished with drills and out on the court, he took to taunting Riko in French (he wasn’t _that_ stupid to call Tetsuji’s heir a jackass or a useless sack of shit in English) whenever he managed to block the striker.

“Speak English when you’re around me!” Riko snarled as he managed to get the ball past Nathaniel (finally), only for Natalie to block it.

“Not my fault that you can only speak two languages,” Nathaniel taunted. “ _And your Japanese accent is surprisingly bad_.”

“ _He keeps blending the dialects of at least two different regions,”_ Natalie agreed. “ _I don’t know where he picked up the Sendai Ben_.”

Riko didn’t seem to appreciate the critique (even if he couldn’t understand it) and slammed Nathaniel into the wall despite not having possession of the ball. That seemed to be the theme of the day (bash Nathaniel around), until Natalie took a threatening step out of the goal and Tetsuji finally called an end to practice.

That day, Nathaniel received more ‘correction’ from Tetsuji than Natalie even though he knew he hadn’t made any mistakes, while a smirking Riko and a disapproving Kevin watched on. The two of them had to run thirty laps around the court before they cleaned it, then were forbidden dinner.

Nathaniel didn’t mind running, but he felt bad that Natalie was punished along with him. “ _Sorry_.”

She shrugged while they looped around the court. “ _I was getting tired of grilled fish anyway_.”

“ _I wonder if he’s going to trash our rooms again_.”

“ _Not much to trash_ ,” Natalie pointed out; they hadn’t been sent with much in the first place, and Tetsuji had confiscated most of those belongings since they were provided new clothes and items as befitted their lives as ‘Ravens’. Nathaniel glanced at his sister and caught the thoughtful expression on her face.

“ _What is it_?”

She was quiet until they finished another lap. “ _He’s getting worse. Riko,”_ she clarified _. “He wasn’t bad when we first met him, but ever since we moved here, he’s become_ ….”

“ _An asshole_ ,” Nathaniel summed up with a scowl.

“ _Yeah, basically_.” Natalie smiled as she tucked back a strand of hair which had slipped free from her ponytail. “ _He treats Kevin more like a servant than a brother or equal, and us like we’re beneath him. I think he’s going to be trouble_.”

He thought about the anger in Riko’s dark eyes as he taunted the older boy, which had been replaced with glee as Riko had shoved him around or watched Tetsuji cane him and his sister. “Yeah,” Nathaniel breathed out, long familiar with recognizing people who took pleasure in hurting others.

They played a game of Japanese puns during the rest of the laps and while cleaning, then went to Natalie’s room (to find her bedding gone, and presumably Nathaniel’s as well) after their showers. “How childish,” Natalie sighed. “As if a little thing like no blankets or pillows will bother us.”

“Or no dinner,” Nathaniel agreed, and waited for his sister to retrieve the knives she’d brought from Baltimore so they could practice before bed.

He’d hoped to leave such lessons behind when he came to Evermore, but Natalie insisted that they continue them for their own protection. Since she didn’t set out to hurt him like Lola or his father did, he reluctantly agreed, and had to admit he enjoyed trying to best his sister.

_Trying_ , because Natalie was very good when it came to fighting; he could understand why his father had hoped to keep her in Baltimore, and was thankful that his mother had managed to send her with him instead.

After she managed to ‘kill’ him three times and he to ‘kill’ her once, they decided it was time for bed; he returned to his room and shook his head upon discovering that yes, his bedding was gone, too. For a moment, he thought about taunting Riko over his lack of imagination before he decided that Natalie would probably smack him for it; no reason to give the asshole any better ideas.

Nathaniel tried his best to keep his mouth shut the next day, especially when Kevin sent him pleading looks whenever Riko’s attention was elsewhere; he really, _really_ did. But the asshole was still in a foul mood from yesterday (or had been set off by something new), and was determined to take it out on Natalie, who did her best to learn the drills as quickly as possible, to match the three of them in skill. So what if she wasn’t as good as them? Nathaniel knew how far she’d come in the past two and a half years, how much she’d improved since being at the Nest, and that she’d keep pushing to get better; his sister wasn’t a quitter. Yet Riko kept taunting her for every flubbed drill or missed block on the goal, until Nathaniel finally called him a spoiled brat in English, and didn’t stand there to take the wild swing at his chest when Riko tried to hit him.

( _His_ swing in return landed Riko on his ass, and cost him and Natalie over a dozen hits from Tetsuji’s cane.)

They’d been ordered to their respective rooms without food for the rest of the day, backs sore and bleeding, to remain there until Tetsuji said otherwise. At first, Nathaniel used the time to catch up on his online studies, but eventually grew bored and sleepy. He’d started to drift off when there was a knock on his door, followed by Akagi entering the room.

“Get up, the Master wants to see you,” the assistant coach insisted.

Nathaniel hurried to obey, his first panicked thought that maybe Tetsuji had called his father to deal with him, based on the severe frown Akagi directed his way and how he hustled him out of the room. The fear intensified when he found a nervous Nakamura waiting in the hall with Natalie, right before the four of them headed to what turned out to be the East Tower.

He exchanged an uneasy glance with his sister as the elevator rose upward.

Dread filled Nathaniel with each step toward the room where he’d watched his father chop apart a stranger a few months before; Natalie reached out to entwine their fingers together as a silent sign of solidarity. Yet when they finally stepped into the large room, it wasn’t to find Nathan waiting for them, but Ichirou Moriyama.

Kengo Moriyama’s heir had grown a little taller in the past year or so, his shoulders a bit broader as he matured. He had an inch on his uncle, who stood beside him, and radiated an air of command despite the fact he was still a teenager.

Nathaniel nearly stumbled in relief to not see his father in the room, but otherwise showed no emotion. He took a guess on the time based on the location of the sun outside and called out a greeting in Japanese. “ _Good afternoon, Ichirou_.”

“ _You will show the young lord some res_ -“ Tetsuji began to hiss out, only to be cut off by a smiling Ichirou.

“ _I see you took my advice_ ,” Ichirou said as Nathaniel and his sister approached within a few feet then stopped to bow in front of the young Moriyama, despite the cuts and bruises along their backs.

“ _Yes, we’ve done our best to learn quickly_ ,” Natalie said before they straightened up. “ _I hope we’re not disappointing you_.”

“ _As of yet, no_.” He nodded to his uncle. “You can go.”

“But-“

Ichirou fixed the older man with a cool look and didn’t repeat himself; Tetsuji stiffened at the silent reprimand and left the room after giving his nephew a curt bow. He ignored Nathaniel and Natalie in passing, Nakamura and Akagi falling in step behind him, while Ichirou’s bodyguards remained scattered around the room.

“I was right about you being good at Exy, _Abram_ ,” Ichirou said as he went to the lacquered bar which held crystal decanters filled with amber liquid. “Though I’m a bit surprised to find you here, _Lee_.”

Nathaniel wondered if there was a reason the Moriyama heir referred to him by his middle name (the one his mother and sister called him) and Natalie’s nickname. Before he could answer, Natalie spoke up. “I go where my brother goes, sir.”

Ichirou nodded as he uncapped one of the crystal bottles and gave it a quick sniff. “Family loyalty is very important.” He poured himself about an inch of the alcohol before he turned to face them, drink in hand. “I saw your mother the other day.”

Nathaniel stiffened at the mention of Mary, as he recalled how hurt she’d been the last time he’d seen her yet determined to hide the pain, how she’d told him to do his best and not give in to the Moriyamas. “How… how is she?” he asked as Natalie grasped his hand once more.

The look of pity cast his way by Ichirou made his chest tighten in fear. “Concerned about you,” Ichirou answered after a sip of alcohol. “With good reason, from what I can tell, and willing to bargain.”

“Bargain for what?” Natalie demanded to know, always clever about those things while Nathaniel worried about his mother.

Ichirou smiled as he approached them, a bodyguard quick to close in as well. “I’m in no hurry for my father to pass away so I can become the new Moriyama lord, but that doesn’t mean I’m not taking steps to ensure that when he does, I’m ready to protect my inheritance.” He gave them an assessing look while he had another sip of his drink. “That’s where you come in.”

Nathaniel tried to figure out what that had to do with him while Natalie shook her head. “Abram can’t take over for his father.”

“No, but _Abram_ is more than a Wesninski, isn’t he?” Ichirou asked with a sharp smile.

Nathaniel began to suspect he knew where the young man was going with this. “I’m also a Hatford, but Mum left them years ago.”

Beside him, Natalie made a faint ‘ahh’ sound at mention of his mother’s family while Ichirou nodded. “Yes, the Hatfords, whom your lovely mother has assured me will align themselves with me as long as I take the two of you under the main branch.”

That… that sounded crazy to Nathaniel, the Hatfords agreeing to such a thing, but his mother was one of the strongest willed people he knew so if she’d promised such a thing…. He looked at Natalie, who gave him a slight nod and a quick squeeze to his hand, before he once more looked at Ichirou. “Yes, sir.” Natalie echoed the words as well.

Ichirou’s smile took on the sharp edge once more. “You now belong to the main branch, but you obey _me_ , do you understand? My father knows about this and has no use for you, half-grown as you are.”

“And you? What use do you have for us?” Natalie dared to ask.

Ichirou stepped forward and reached out; Nathaniel braced for one of them to be hit, but all Ichirou did was grasp Natalie by the chin and hold her face still so he could look into her eyes for several seconds. “I know all about your past, Natalie Shields, and how the Butcher hoped to make you one of his enforcers. Exy’s not the only skill you possess.”

It was Nathaniel’s turn next, Ichirou’s fingers warm against his jaw. “And you, Nathaniel Abram, are a Wesninski and a Hatford.” His dark gold eyes gazed deep into Nathaniel’s as he tilted Nathaniel’s chin up. “You’re almost as good with a knife as a racquet.”

“Will… will we be required to use both?” he forced himself to ask.

“You’ll do whatever I require of you, and I refuse to let talent go to waste,” Ichirou said before he let go. “ _Matsuo, return these two to their rooms and have my uncle come back in_ ,” he told one of the bodyguards as he went over to the windows to look outside, seemingly done with them for the time being.

Unsure if they were still ‘grounded’ or not (did Tetsuji have any say in it now?), Nathaniel left his room a few minutes after returning to it to go talk to Natalie, who gave him a quick hug upon his arrival then shoved him onto her bed. “You all right?”

“Yeah, just a bit surprised by everything,” Nathaniel admitted as he tugged on the cuffs of his long-sleeved black t-shirt. “You think it’s going to be okay, belonging to the main branch?”

Natalie grimaced as she sat down beside him. “Better to belong to the trained dog than the rabid one.”

“Hmm?” What did that mean?

She waved aside the unspoken question. “Seems to me that the main branch has all the power, and that Ichirou will be in charge one day. Only makes sense to go along with him.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip and wondered if that’s why his mother had made the deal.

“You think the Hatfords will come through?”

He shrugged before he fell back to lay on the bed. “I told you how Mum’s always so cagey about them. But she never makes empty promises.” He worried about how much this one would cost her and wished that he had a way to talk to her.

That she hadn’t told him to not worry about her, to focus on surviving, before he’d left Baltimore.

“Yeah,” Natalie breathed out. She curled up next to him, a warm, safe presence who put him at ease, and stroked her fingers through his hair. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

“And me you,” he swore as he closed his eyes. Natalie wasn’t his mother, but she was just as strong, just as determined to keep him safe in her own way; he wouldn’t let her be taken away if he could help it.

Side by side on the bed, they took comfort in each other’s presence, cut off from the rest of the world in the Nest.

*******  
  



	2. Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Moreau arrived two days later, a young Frenchman around Kevin’s and Riko’s age, with black hair, grey eyes, and a massive attitude problem. He glared down his nose (of course he was taller than Nathaniel) at everyone but the adults while Tetsuji introduced him to the rest of the ‘Perfect Court’ (as Riko had dubbed the four of them). “Nathaniel, Jean will be your partner. He’s a backliner, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Okay, things start to get dark here because this is where Neil/Nathaniel and Renee/Natalie begin paying off their debt to the main branch. Trigger warnings? Murder staged as suicide, teenagers/youths committing murder, insinuation of under-age prostitution (JUST insinuation), a character who's a pedophile (NOTHING happens excepts bad things to the character), OC death. Also? No living animals were harmed in the making of this chapter (there's references to the canonical bit of Nathaniel being trained by Lola when a child).
> 
> Natalie/Renee also makes it very clear that consent is important, as is age differences.
> 
> I think that's all? Let me know if I missed anything, and reach out to me if you've any questions (nekojitachan on tumblr).
> 
> Ah, thanks to a-slytherin-annabeth and greyjumper55 for providing feedback on this chapter!

*******

“You are _such_ a speedy little demon; we should put a bell on you so we can at least keep track of you on the court,” Kari complained while she tousled Nathaniel’s hair. He grimaced at the affectionate gesture but allowed it since the offensive dealer was one of Natalie’s friends.

“You’re gonna give your mark fits once you’re an official Raven.” Octavia frowned as she handed over her apple. “We need to bulk you up some more by then.”

“He just burns it off,” Natalie said as she gave Nathaniel a slight nudge in the side. “This one seems built for running. Maybe he should be a striker or a dealer.”

“I like running,” Nathaniel mumbled after he swallowed a bite of apple; it was crisp and tart, just how he liked them. “And I do fine as a backliner.” He certainly had no problem blocking Riko and Kevin.

The three young women agreed and commented that lack of size didn’t equate to lack of toughness; Octavia and Kari were two of the newer Ravens, both sophomores, and among the few women on the team.

The Ravens – or at least some of them – had stopped being so standoffish with Nathaniel and Natalie in the last few weeks. Part of it had been them noticing the split (such as it was) between the two of them and Riko and Kevin (the ‘heirs’ of Exy), and part of it had been when John, an asshole freshman striker, had heard about Natalie’s sixteenth birthday and thought it a great idea to ask her if she was now ‘ready for some fun’.

Natalie had immediately pulled a knife on him and asked if he was ‘ready to live life as a eunuch’, while Nathaniel told her to leave him his balls and go for his tiny dick instead.

For some reason, that had endeared the handful of women Ravens to them, and earned them the respect of some of the men. It also meant that Nathaniel had to put up with people messing with his hair and teasing him about his height (more the lack of it), about them being ‘asked’ to fetch drinks, snacks or other items during their downtime… but no one tried to hurt them.

(Other than Tetsuji when they messed up drills or practice, or Riko with his tricks out on court, but that didn’t count.)

Nathaniel supposed he could put up with becoming the Ravens’ ‘unofficial’ mascot when it made Natalie smile and got him extra fruit.

After lunch, everyone returned to their rooms or one of the common areas to study during the short time before the final practice of the day; Nathaniel and Natalie usually went to her room to do their homework together. They passed Riko and Kevin in the hallway since their rooms were nearby, and of course Riko couldn’t resist getting a taunt in while passing.

“Ooh, what class is it today? Reading for dummies?” He laughed at the pathetic joke while Kevin gave them an apologetic look; long used to the asshole’s antagonistic behavior, Nathaniel and his sister simply ignored him (which they knew would affect him the most).

For once, Riko left the insults at that, which was a surprise; he enjoyed taunting Natalie over the fact that, despite her being sixteen, she wasn’t that far past Riko and Kevin in academics since she’d dropped out of school after joining the Bloodhounds. She’d done an incredible job catching up while living in Baltimore, but Tetsuji’s intense training regime didn’t leave her much opportunity to study ahead so there was talk of holding her back at least a year, probably two, which would grant her more time to work on her Exy skills.

(Perhaps it was selfish of him, but Nathaniel wouldn’t complain about having Natalie around the Nest longer.)

They didn’t say anything until they were in Natalie’s room. “He’s been a bit odd lately,” she said as she fetched her laptop.

(There was no question about who ‘he’ was.)

“He’s an asshole,” Nathaniel muttered as he dug through his bag for his own laptop. “What’s odd about that?”

“It’s just….” Her brows drew together as she stared at the device’s blank screen then shook her head as she powered it on. “He was so angry when he found out about us swearing to Ichirou, but the last few days he’s been less antagonistic.” At Nathaniel’s dubious look, she rolled her eyes. “For an asshole.”

“Maybe he’s plotting something,” Nathaniel suggested as he logged on to his online classes. “Maybe he thinks he’s figured out something so much better than messing with our beds in that _little_ asshole snake brain of his.”

Natalie smiled as she bumped into his left shoulder. “Tell me how you really feel about him.”

Like he needed an excuse. “He’s an asshole snake of a bastard who-“

His sister cut him off by smacking him lightly over the head with a pillow. “I think I get it!” When he batted the pillow aside and glared, Natalie grinned and pointed at his laptop. “Show some of that creativity for the essay you have to write for English.”

“School sucks almost as much as Riko,” he grumbled as he clicked on the mentioned assignment. “Hey, I’ll do your math if you-“

“No,” Natalie said, smile gone as she focused on her own lesson plan. “You need to learn more than math, Ram.”

“Why, when we’ll be playing Exy and doing stuff for Ichirou.” He narrowed his eyes when he spotted his latest reading assignment. “We gonna debate Pride and Prejudice while slitting some guy’s throat?”

“Perhaps,” she mused while she typed something. “You never know what triggers some people. Might be the thought of figuring out a calculus problem or they’ll lose a finger, or hearing the breakdown of War and Peace’s plot.”

Nathaniel gave his sister an intent look for several seconds. “You’re terrifying, you know.”

Natalie’s special smile returned, the one which she mostly reserved for him, the one that brought out the dimple in her right cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He resumed lying down next to her and forced himself to start on the detested essay. “Hey, why do people hate math so much?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Hmm, not sure, maybe because it doesn’t come to them as easily as it does you. Just like how you pick up languages.” She flashed the special smile again. “But not essay writing.”

“That’s for you to do.”

She hummed in pleasure and stroked a hand over his hair in agreement.

They studied for the rest of the hour (Natalie corrected his essay once he had it written, and he checked her math – they still covered each other like that), then they got ready for the last practice of the day.

There had been some uncomfortable stares from the Ravens when Nathaniel had first changed with them, as they took in the knife and burn scars on his chest and back, but now they no longer paid attention to them. Instead, they teased each other about who would score the most points or rack up the most blocks, then took turns rubbing Nathaniel’s head on the way out to court.

“ _Why_?” he demanded to know as he fended off Gerry’s hand.

“For good luck of course!” the older backliner declared with a laugh, while his partner, Liam, nodded in agreement.

“Your fault for being a redhead, Nat,” Omar called out while he tugged on his gloves. “And so adorable. You should-oof.” He stumbled as Riko ‘accidentally’ swung his helmet at the junior striker while he stormed out of the locker room, a quiet Kevin ever his shadow.

“Spoiled little brat,” Omar muttered as he rubbed his ribs, a sentiment that was echoed by a few other Ravens; Nathaniel wisely kept his opinion to himself (even if it was much the same). He might badmouth Riko to his sister all the time, but they were still Moriyama property even if they now answered to Ichirou and not Tetsuji.

Tetsuji had Nathaniel, Natalie, Kevin and Riko work on drills while the official Ravens warmed up, then scrimmage together for a while. Nathaniel enjoyed the matches because even if Riko was an asshole who always used excessive force against him (which Tetsuji ignored), he was a talented asshole, along with Kevin (who wasn’t so much an asshole as Riko’s toady).

When it was time for them to stop and join in with the Ravens, Tetsuji ordered Nathaniel and Natalie to go back to working on drills; Riko smirked at them as he and Kevin left to join the older players. Nathaniel opened his mouth to complain about being deprived of scrimmage time, except Matsumoto offered to call out drills for them.

Tetsuji nodded in approval while Nakamori and Akagi fell in step behind the ‘Master’; normally, Nathaniel was uneasy around older men (especially ones his father’s age), but Matsumoto was in his early sixties, possessed a quiet voice and kept his hands to himself.

He was also very pragmatic and while he might be one of Tetsuji’s assistant coaches, he realized that ‘the Master’ and his grand Castle Evermore only existed with the main branch’s blessing. That meant he often passed along useful bits of information to Nathaniel and his sister.

They spent half an hour going through the eight Ravens drills (which they’d perfected) in the random order Matsumoto called out, knocking down cones again and again. It was while Nathaniel was setting up the cones yet _again_ that he caught Matsumoto leaning toward Natalie and whispering something in her ear.

He had to wait until after dinner to find out what it was; Natalie joined him in his room. “ _It seems that someone owes a debt to Kengo, and the only way he can pay it back is to offer up his son, who plays Exy very well_ ,” she explained in French.

For a moment, Nathaniel felt an intense wave of anger at the thought of another kid being sold to the Moriyamas, of having a father like his, before he shoved it aside. He jumped a little when Natalie gave a gentle touch to his left cheek (scrubbed clean for the night of the stupid ‘3’ which Riko insisted he bear). “ _I think it’s why Riko’s been acting up lately. Matsumoto said that he overheard Tetsuji telling Riko that you’re getting a partner, so he probably knows about the kid’s background_.”

Nathaniel huffed as he rubbed his sore ribs, the ones which Riko had smacked with his racquet earlier in the day. “ _Knowing the asshole snake, he’s probably expecting a new ‘toy’ to play with_.” One his big brother wouldn’t snatch away this time.

“ _Perhaps_.” Natalie didn’t appear pleased with the thought, but there wasn’t much they could do about Riko’s personality worsening by the month. “ _Come, time to practice_.”

“ _Slave driver_ ,” Nathaniel groaned even as he climbed off his bed and slipped free the knife he kept sheathed on his left ankle at all times; he figured the sooner he suffered through their nightly fighting practice, the sooner he could sleep.

More like pass out on his bed, by the time they were done.

Jean Moreau arrived two days later, a young Frenchman around Kevin’s and Riko’s age, with black hair, grey eyes, and a massive attitude problem. He glared down his nose ( _of course_ he was taller than Nathaniel) at everyone but the adults while Tetsuji introduced him to the rest of the ‘Perfect Court’ (as Riko had dubbed the four of them). “Nathaniel, Jean will be your partner. He’s a backliner, too.”

“Understood, sir,” Nathaniel said with a slight bow.

“You’ll teach him everything he needs to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll be-“

“ _I don’t want to be here_!” Jean complained in French as he tugged on the front of his new uniform, which bore the number ‘4’. “ _All of you can go to hell, I refuse to-ow!_ ” His pale grey eyes grew wide as he stumbled forward beneath the force of the blow to his back from Tetsuji’s cane.

“You’ll speak English,” Tetsuji reprimanded while Riko smirked and Kevin stared off into the distance as if he wasn’t participating in the whole ‘here’s a new possession’ thing.

“ _I’ll speak whatever I wa-ow!”_ That time, Jean was knocked to his knees, where he was hit several times before Tetsuji relented; Nathaniel was disgusted to notice the gleam of pleasure in Riko’s dark eyes over the abuse.

(He and Natalie only kept still because Jean needed to learn quickly how things were in the Nest, not because they condoned the abuse.)

“You’ll learn to obey or else,” Tetsuji warned. “Be on court in five minutes.” He gave a pointed look to Nathaniel and Natalie before he left, clearly leaving it to them to bring a moaning Jean along.

They exchanged a brief glance before they went over to the new backliner, one on other side of him, and gently grabbed him by an elbow. When Jean made a sound of distress, Natalie spoke in French. “ _It’s okay, we won’t hurt you, we’re just helping you out to the court so you don’t get hit again_.”

Well, at least not hit for failing to show up to practice, but Nathaniel kept that thought to himself.

“ _You… you speak French_?” Jean asked as he lifted his head, a bit of hope on his face.

“ _Yeah, but we’re not going to do it with you in front of Tetsuji_ ,” Nathaniel warned. “ _You need to listen to him and speak English_.”

“ _You need to listen to him, plain and simple_ ,” Natalie stressed while they left Tetsuji’s office.

“ _But I shouldn’t be here_ ,” Jean said. “ _I need to leave, to go home_.” The hope strengthened as he glanced back and forth between them. “ _You have to help me, have to_ -“

“ **No**.” Natalie’s tone was resolute as she cut him off. “ _We’re just like you, were handed over to Tetsuji because Nat’s father, my foster father, is involved with the Moriyamas. You need to accept that you’re here for good and move on before Tetsuji breaks something_.”

“ _I can’t be owned as if I’m… I’m some sort of object_!” Jean protested as he tried to drag his feet (his rather large feet considering he was a tall bastard).

“ _Get over it_ ,” Nathaniel snapped. “ _You can and you are. Join the club and behave_.” Because he had a bad feeling about the whole ‘partner’ thing.

“ _I refuse to_ -“

At the same time, Natalie and Nathaniel smacked their free hand into Jean (Natalie going for the back of his head, Nathaniel his stomach) while shouting “ **English**!”.

“ **Ow**! Fine, you bastards! I refuse to accept this!” Jean muttered in heavily accented English as he was dragged onto Evermore’s court for his first practice session.

Two things quickly became obvious about Jean Moreau. First, that he was a talented backliner, enough to validate his presence at Evermore and his spot on Riko’s ‘Perfect Court’. Second, that he was an amazingly stubborn bastard who had to learn things the hard way. The very hard way. The _very_ hard and _very_ painful way.

Not only for him, but for Nathaniel and Natalie as well.

Jean refused to accept that he was now Moriyama property, that he had to remain at the Nest and learn to play Exy well enough to one day earn lots of money for the yakuza family. For some _insane_ reason, he believed that if he refused to practice or do well on court, he would be returned to his family (the family who’d handed him over to the Moriyamas in lieu of monetary debts).

Riko delighted in taking advantage of any gaps in defense Jean left with his sour attitude, which meant that Nathaniel took a beating as he attempted to defend the goal by himself. Riko also was more than happy to report any time Jean flubbed a practice, broke a rule or spoke in French to his uncle, who in return punished Jean as he saw fit, often with a beating and then an endless amount of drills and laps.

Tetsuji may not be able to beat Nathaniel anymore unless he messed up a drill or a scrimmage somehow, but as Jean’s partner… well, he was included on those drills and laps, which meant a loss of sleep and skipped meals. Natalie, in a show of solidarity, joined the two of them (Nathaniel argued about it, but Natalie insisted since they were siblings).

Nathaniel thought she was being an idiot even as he appreciated not suffering alone.

He slipped out of the room he now shared with Jean one night after his partner had fallen asleep to meet with his sister, who tossed him an orange once he entered her room. At his curious look, she smiled. “Octavia and Kari feel sorry for us.”

“You did eat, right?” he checked before he started peeling it, even though his hunger urged him on to devour it right away.

“Yes.” She held up her right hand to show the hint of orange color tinting her short nails. “Be thankful that you’re my favorite brother and that I saved it for you.”

“I’m your only brother,” he mumbled as he sat beside her.

“Well, that I know of,” Natalie confessed with a wry grin as she lifted her mattress to reveal four granola bars, which she split between them. “Definitely my cutest one, which is why the others are smuggling food for us.”

“That and they like you.” Natalie was good at making friends; Nathaniel had been discouraged from interacting with other children by his mother until Natalie had come along, and had hoped that things might be different at Evermore. That certainly hadn’t happened, not with Riko being such an asshole, though Kevin was all right if he wasn’t around Riko… which rarely happened.

He stared at the uneaten granola bar and thought maybe he should take it back to his room, until Natalie noticed his gaze and shook her head. “No, not until Jean comes to his senses. I won’t risk you getting into any more trouble over him.” When he was about to argue for the other boy, she shook her head again. “ _No_ , Abram. He has to learn this for himself.”

“I don’t think he will.” Nathaniel tore his teeth into the bar as a way to vent his frustration. “He’s not like us.” He hadn’t been raised around violence despite his parents being tied to the Moriyamas, he didn’t realize yet that the abuse wouldn’t come to an end, that it wouldn’t stop escalating. Jean seemed to think he just had to hold out a little longer and it would _stop_.

He was such an _idiot_.

(Nathaniel didn’t know if he hated his partner or not for that misplaced belief.)

“Hmm.” Natalie seemed to consider something as she nibbled on her second granola bar. “Then we’ll have to do something, won’t we?”

He gazed at her for a few seconds to see if she’d elaborate on what that ‘something’ was, but when she merely gazed back without speaking, he shrugged and ate the other bar. Whatever she was planning, it would turn out all right, Natalie was reliable like that.

At the least, she was better at thinking things through than he was.

He found out what her plan was a week and a half later, when the Ravens played a home game against Penn State; it was a big event since both teams were ranked in the top three of the Class I division. The game had been sold out ever since the tickets had gone on sale and would be broadcasted for those who couldn’t attend… and Kengo would be up in the East Tower with guests, according to Matsumoto.

The media always asked for an update on Riko and Kevin when they were on site for a game, and lately Nathaniel and Natalie were included as well since they were ‘Perfect Court’ (regardless of Riko’s snide comments about Natalie’s playing ability). All four of them spent a short time practicing drills while they were filmed before Nathaniel and Natalie were dismissed (so Riko could be given special attention); Jean was to be kept a secret for a while longer (until he learned to behave).

Nathaniel didn’t care at all about Riko and Kevin being the center of attention, not when it always put the asshole snake in a better mood for a day or two. Or at least, it would have if it wasn’t for Matsumoto waiting for Nathaniel and Natalie in the hallway when they were headed to find a common room to watch the game.

It seemed their presence was required up in the East Tower.

Since they’d been called up there a couple times before, the ‘request’ didn’t bother them; someone from the main branch, be it Ichirou, Kengo or one of their trusted lieutenants, often checked on them. Nathaniel suspected that they’d be reminded of their places (their debt) and asked how they were progressing with the Exy and knife fighting practices, as well as him picking up Russian (another of Ichirou’s ‘suggestions’). The only surprise was to find both Kengo and Ichirou in the room, surrounded by various men dressed in expensive suits.

“ _He does look just like the Butcher_ ,” one of the men, appearing middle-aged, said in Japanese to what was probably a subordinate. “ _No mistaking the blood there_.”

“ _But the girl? I didn’t think the Butcher left any bastards alive_.”

Ichirou put an end to any spoken speculation as he approached Nathaniel and Natalie, who were mindful to give him and his father a respectful bow. “ _I hear you both have been doing well in your studies_.”

The two yakuza who’d been talking about them flinched when Natalie answered back in the same language. “ _Yes, sir, we’ve been studying hard when not practicing_.”

When Ichirou turned his attention to Nathaniel, he cleared his throat and hoped that he didn’t mess up his Russian accent. “ _I wish you a good day and good health_ ,” he told his ‘lord’ in the language, “ _and look forward to serving you_.” He’d made sure to memorize the phrase in case he saw Ichirou sometime soon.

The younger Moriyama chuckled as he glanced at his father. “ _That didn’t sound like an insult to me_.”

“ _Of course not_ ,” Nathaniel argued as he switched back to Japanese, a bit insulted himself. “ _Lee would never let me do such a thing_!”

Kengo, stockier than Ichirou and less prone to showing emotion, huffed as he nodded to his smiling son in what appeared to be approval. “ _He’s a Hatford, all right_.”

“ _Yes, it works well for us_.” The smile faded as Ichirou regarded them intently. “ _You both appear thinner than the last time I saw you. Are your practices that intense_?”

Natalie nudged her right foot into Nathaniel’s, a clear sign that she would answer the question. “ _Sir, it’s not so much the practices, where we’re doing well, it’s just that… Nat has a new partner_.” When Ichirou or Kengo didn’t react to the statement, she continued. “ _Jean’s another… asset to the Moriyamas, but he’s not adjusting well to things even though we’re doing our best to make him understand, and it doesn’t help that all he’s known since coming here is abuse, which we’re included in since Nat’s his partner_.”

Ichirou seemed to consider that for a minute. “ _He needs to learn his place_.” Behind him, Kengo nodded.

“ _I agree_ ,” Natalie was quick to add while Nathaniel nodded. “ _But what I do disagree with are the current methods to go about that_.” While Ichirou stared at her, she bowed her head. “ _I fear if they continue, you won’t have the best asset left to you, he’s that stubborn_.”

“ _What do you propose_?” Kengo asked as he came to stand beside his heir (his only son in his mind, Nathaniel knew).

Natalie gave him a slight smile. “ _Make us responsible for Jean and **we** will ensure you get the full value out of him_.”

Nathaniel was hard-pressed not to react to that offer, especially since it posed some risk to them; if Jean continued to resist, then it would be on _their_ heads. Yet he also hated to see his partner beaten and starved by Tetsuji and Riko, especially when Riko took too much pleasure in hurting Jean.

Ichirou and Kengo exchanged a look for several seconds before Kengo gave a slow nod as if to indicate the matter was to be resolved by his son. Ichirou’s expression turned thoughtful as he once again regarded the two of them. “ _You’re asking to take over the responsibility of Jean Moreau_.”

For some reason, Nathaniel tensed at the question, as did Natalie.

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” Natalie answered in a slow, cautious manner.

“ _You are **asking**_ ,” Ichirou stressed, “ _which means you want a favor. A favor implies a debt_.” Nathaniel was suddenly aware of the entire room’s attention focused on them. “ _A debt requires a payment_.” Before Natalie could argue, a sharp smile overcame Ichirou’s lips. “ _And I just happen to have in mind an appropriate payment_.”

Natalie was quiet as her hand sought out Nathaniel’s. “ _I… understand, sir. What would that payment require_?”

Ichirou motioned to one of his men, who went over to the bar to pour him a drink. “ _Something that shouldn’t be much for the Butcher’s protégé. There’s someone who’s proven elusive to my men, but you_ ,” he paused to look her up and down, “ _you happen to fall into his interests and so should get past his guard_.”

“ _I see_.” Natalie’s fingers tightened around Nathaniel’s as it must have occurred to her (as it occurred to him) what that ‘interest’ meant. “ _I accept_.”

“ _Good, then Nobuo will_ -“

“ _I accept, too_ ,” Nathaniel spoke up, which prompted Natalie to give his hand a painful squeeze. He looked over at her, a slight scowl on his face. “ _We do this together_.”

“But-“

“ _And now the Butcher’s son has accepted_.” When Natalie frowned over that statement, Ichirou gave her a blank look. “ _He’s also responsible for Moreau so it’s only fitting_.”

They faced off for about a minute before Natalie sighed and gave a slight bow. “ _We live to do your bidding_.”

“ _Yes, you do_ ,” Kengo agreed while Ichirou accepted a drink from his bodyguard. “ _Those who acknowledge that fact do well_.” He didn’t say anything else, but Nathaniel doubted more was needed, really.

They did well for the family, or they were worthless.

He already knew how his father treated anything without worth.

After that, they were ignored while Kengo asked Ichirou about the bets placed on the game that evening. Nathaniel blanked his mind as much as possible, and was startled some time later when Natalie gave his hand a hard squeeze; he blinked his eyes to find Matsumoto gesturing for them to leave.

Natalie wasn’t pleased with his ‘me too’ in regards to Ichirou’s price to hand over Jean, but in the last few years, it had been the two of them dealing with things.

Together.

So it would be _them_ dealing with this ‘problem’ of Ichirou’s.

Together.

They agreed not to say anything to Jean until the matter was resolved (until they paid the price), which meant that they dealt with being woken up too early on Saturday (or whatever time it really was in the real world) to spend extra hours out on court doing drills (with no breakfast), and got extra beatings from Tetsuji’s cane since Jean _still_ didn’t have the first three drills down. They went to bed hungry Saturday night, and woke up expecting much the same on Sunday.

Except Nobuo pulled them aside for their ‘debt’ after their meager lunch, much to Tetsuji’s displeasure and Riko’s temper tantrum. Kevin looked confused as they left and Jean bitter, but there was no time for explanations even if they could say anything. Nathaniel and Natalie quickly found themselves shuffled onto a private plane of all things.

They sat together while Nobuo left them alone, a bit dazed by everything. “ _Ichirou is serious about this_.”

“ _Of course he is, he wouldn’t make something up in front of his father and people and risk losing face_ ,” Natalie argued. “ _Ram… you don’t have to do this, you’re just a-“_

 _“I’m almost thirteen, the same age you were when you killed for the first time,”_ Nathaniel reminded his sister. “ _I’m not letting you do this alone_.”

She didn’t appear happy over his insistence to tag along in whatever Ichirou had in mind for them, but she gave him a quick hug none the less.

It didn’t take long to fly to New York City, their final destination, though it did take a while to drive downtown, where they waited in an office building for Ichirou to join them. At least a young woman offered them drinks and snacks, and Nobuo a change of clothes.

Natalie swapped out her black and red track suit for a pink and white sun dress which made her look younger than her sixteen years, while Nathaniel was given nylon shorts and a t-shirt bearing some cartoon character.

They were also given new sheaths to hide their knives under the outfits.

Nathaniel had started to fidget from boredom when Ichirou arrived at last and gave their appearances an approving nod. “Yes, perfect. You’re going to leave with… well, call him an associate of ours, who will deliver you to your assignment.” A coldness came over Ichirou’s demeanor as he motioned for Nobuo to hand Natalie a small purse with frilly flowers on it. “Call once he’s dead, and it would be helpful if you can negate his security system.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathaniel and Natalie said in unison, along with a slight bow.

Ichirou waved them away; Nobuo led them out of the austere office and explained to them as they headed back to the garage level that he and several other Moriyama people would follow behind them and the ‘associate’, who turned out to be an unhappy man in his thirties named Martin who smoked non-stop.

“Tell me you’re fucking midgets or something,” he almost pleaded while he drove them to their ‘assignment’ in a large SUV with tinted windows, his voice thick with what Nathaniel thought of as a New York City accent (and that his mother hated). “That your growth’s stunted and you moisturize like crazy. _Something_.” When they remained silent, he rubbed his forehead and let out a large plume of smoke. “ _Fuck_.”

Nathaniel suspected that he and his sister weren’t the only ones paying off a debt that day.

Fortunately, Martin pulled it together when they reached a large house outside of the city; it was set a bit away from the others and had a long driveway with a security gate as if the owner valued their privacy.

As if the owner didn’t want others to do know what they did inside of it.

Martin was calm (and had stopped smoking) by the time they got out of the SUV and stood at the front door; Nathaniel noticed the security cameras but counted on the Moriyamas doing something about it later. After a moment, a middle-aged man dressed in loose pants and t-shirt which showed off a trim build opened the reinforced door.

“Right on time, Martin! Should I give you a tip?” he (Alex, from what Martin had said) asked in a cheerful manner while he eyed Natalie then Nathaniel up and down.

Martin managed a somewhat convincing smile while he motioned to Nathaniel and his sister. “Well, I’ve a lot of things to do today, but Ronnie stressed how much you were looking forward to this, uhm, gift so I didn’t want to make you wait.”

“How kind of you both.” Alex waved him off before he reached for Natalie’s and Nathaniel’s arms to pull them into the house; Nathaniel struggled not to react, to pull away in fear or to go for his knife.

His brain kicked back in once they were inside and Natalie gave him an intent look; right beside the door was a security panel, which Alex reached toward after he closed the door. “Wow, this place is incredible!” Nathaniel said with as much false enthusiasm as he could muster.

Alex glanced at him with a patronizing smile on his face while he reset the security code – all the while, Natalie made sure to watch what he did. “Oh, it’s nothing special. But if you’re that impressed, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

No, it wasn’t that ‘special’, wasn’t much different than what Nathaniel had grown up with back in Baltimore, had gladly left behind to get away from his father; it was large leather-covered furniture and gleaming vases and plush rugs on cold marble floors, was no sign of warmth or personality, just money. He shared a knowing look with Natalie as they were clearly led to a bedroom, as Alex didn’t even bother to ask them their names (they had fake ones ready) or any personal details.

Along the way, Alex called out a few items such as a sound system and a painting, but it was clear he wasn’t interested in much besides getting them to a room that had a king-sized bed in it (with restraints at its top and bottom), a nightstand, a camera set up on a tripod and two pieces of furniture which probably contained various accessories he used on his victims. Alex closed the door behind them then pushed Nathaniel toward the bed. “I want both of you to take off your clothes and to get on the bed. Put on a show for me to start.”

Nathaniel, from his position on the bed, glanced at his sister, who gave him a slight nod. “Do you have anything to help make things more fun?” she asked as she set her purse on the nightstand.

Alex smiled at the question. “Oh, you’re into that? Sure, it always helps things along.” He went over to one of the cabinets and opened it up, then leaned over to riffle through it; while he did that, Nathaniel pulled up his t-shirt to fetch the knife sheathed in the small of his back while Natalie grabbed the one strapped to her upper thigh.

Before Alex could straighten up, Natalie struck at the base of his skull; however, he moved just as she stabbed with blade, which made her strike be slightly off, judging from the way he threw her aside and staggered away from the piece of furniture.

Nathaniel was on his feet within a moment with his knife in his hand, which he stabbed into the bastard’s left armpit and jerked upward. The man barely got out a strangled cry before he toppled to the floor, his limbs twitching a few times before he stilled and a pool of blood spread out from his body.

Nathaniel stared at the man he’d killed (helped kill?), until Natalie startled him by bending down to check the bastard’s pulse. “It’s done,” she said in a quiet voice before standing up and reaching for Nathaniel to give him a hug. “You all right?”

Surprisingly… surprisingly he was. He’d felt awful slicing into pigs’ corpses and had refused to skin a live cat Lola had brought down into the basement one day (and paid for it with new scars), but hadn’t felt any guilt over what he’d just done. Perhaps it was because he’d had no choice, perhaps because he realized what the man would do to him and _Natalie_ if he didn’t… but he didn’t feel guilt or anything. “I’m fine.”

Natalie gave him a searching look for several seconds before letting go. “Okay.” She went back for her bag to retrieve the burner cell phone, on which she pulled up the only phone number programed into it to call one of Ichirou’s people to let them know that they’d done their job and that they had the security code. Then they left the bedroom (which had begun to smell) so they could deactivate the security system.

It only took a few minutes after that before things became busy; Nobuo and several other men arrived to clean things up, not that Nathaniel and his sister stayed for any of it. A young yakuza member whisked them away to return them to New York once they washed off any blood and changed their clothes, and they went straight to the airport with a message passed on that Ichirou was pleased with their work.

Nathaniel suspected that if the Moriyamas weren’t ‘pleased’ with them, they’d be headed for someplace out of the way where their bodies could be easily disposed. Instead, they were put back on the plane and returned to Charleston.

To Evermore and the Nest.

Since they’d lived up to their end of the bargain (had killed for Ichirou), that meant that Jean was theirs now.

They discussed what to do on the flight back to the Nest (grateful that Tamaki, the young yakuza assigned to them, thought to have some food waiting for them on the plane). The Nest was quiet when they returned, everyone but Nakamori and a few guards (who let them in) in their rooms for the night, so Nathaniel and Natalie went straight for the one he shared with Jean.

His partner was asleep, his face marred with fresh bruises. It took him a few seconds to react to their presence, a sure sign of exhaustion, and once he woke up enough, he seemed happy about their return.

They hadn’t woken him up to say ‘hi’ or ‘good night’.

Natalie grabbed him by the front of the black t-shirt he wore to bed and hauled him into a sitting position. “ _We’re going to talk now_ ,” she told him as he fumbled at her wrists.

“ _I… what? What are you doing_?” Jean demanded to know as his grey eyes, the left one swollen and bruised, widened in panic. “ _Let me go_!”

“No.” Nathaniel moved to stand beside his sister. “ _Do you know what we did tonight_?”

The panic was replaced with envy on Jean’s face, especially since Natalie released his shirt and stepped back. “ _You left this awful place_.”

“ _We left it to do something for the Moriyamas, a favor we owed them because we stepped in to protect you_ ,” Natalie explained as she unsheathed the knife hidden in the small of her back; Jean instantly stilled and eyed the weapon with a fresh dose of fear. “ _We killed a man for them because of you_.”

“I.. no,” Jean argued as he shook his head yet kept his gaze on the sharp blade. “ _You’re lying_! _That’s impossible_ , _you’re kids.”_

“ _We’re not_ ,” Nathaniel insisted as he tugged on the white t-shirt he’d been given by Nobuo back at the pedophile’s house, tugged it down to reveal the scars Jean had seen in the showers. “ _Some of these are from when I didn’t learn fast enough how to use a knife to please my father, the Butcher of Baltimore. Ichirou Moriyama had us kill someone tonight in return for protecting you from his uncle and brother_.”

“ _But… that’s… that’s crazy_.” Jean drew up his legs to his chest as if to make himself small. “ _Why would you do such a thing_?”

Natalie lowered the knife but didn’t put it away. “ _Because you’re Nat’s partner, and what affects you affects him. Because we don’t think you deserve to be beaten up because of your parents_.” She hesitated for a moment before she bent down to look at Jean. “ _Hey, I mean that, you don’t deserve what they’re doing to you, but you must realize that you’re here to stay, okay? We made sure that Riko will leave you alone, but you have to start practicing and listening to Tetsuji_.” She reached out to tuck back the hair which fell onto his bruised face.

Nathaniel squatted next to her and offered his partner a tentative smile. _“It’s not so bad, really. Some of the Ravens are nice, and you must like Exy to be playing it, right_?”

Jean attempted to sniff back tears as he gave a slight nod. “ _I… I’m good at it and… I thought it made them happy. Why did they send me away? How could they do that_?” He began to cry, his words mumbled as he sobbed, something about ‘Sophie’ and his parents; Natalie and Nathaniel exchanged confused looks for a moment, uncertain about what to do before Natalie sheathed her weapon and crawled onto the bed with the boy.

Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip until Natalie hissed out his name, then sighed and joined the two of them; it was a bit cramped but they (or at least he and his sister) were on the small side so they managed to all fit on the twin bed. They laid there while Jean cried, more as reassuring presences than anything (Nathaniel didn’t know what to do with someone who cried, and all Natalie did was pat Jean now and then and make a humming sound), but eventually Jean fell asleep.

It took a while for Nathaniel to do the same since he only ever slept with his mother or sister, but after Natalie reached over for his hand, he felt better and finally gave in to exhaustion.

*******

Natalie pulled her freshly dyed purple and pink hair back into a ponytail for practice before tying a black bandana over it.

“I think I’m finally getting used to it,” Thea said as she pulled on her jersey. “It’s such a change from the black and red, but somehow it suits you.”

Natalie smiled at her partner and at Octavia and Kari, who echoed her sentiments. “Thank you. It was time for a change.”

“I know what you mean, I feel like I’ve had this hairstyle forever.” Octavia frowned as she tugged on one of her short, light brown twist of curls. “I may shave it really short? What do you think?”

“With your bone structure? Go for it,” her partner insisted as she flashed a thumb’s up. “And hey, more time in the bathroom for me.” Kari laughed when Octavia threw her helmet at her before slamming shut her locker; when Natalie nodded in approval, Octavia smiled and winked.

They joined the rest of the Ravens out on the court; Natalie smiled to see Brett and Keith over by her brother and Jean, teasing the latter about growing another inch overnight and calling Nathaniel by his nickname, ‘Sansokuu’. Nathaniel swatted them aside as if annoyed, but there was a slight smile on his face and he appeared relaxed.

Off to the side, Riko glowered at the racquet stand before he snatched his up then went stalking towards his uncle; Kevin remained behind to restore order to the remaining racquets before selecting his, then went to join Nathaniel and Jean.

Natalie motioned to Thea that she was going to go chat with her brother before practice officially started, and nodded to various friends along the way. When she reached the younger boys, they were huddled together and talking in Japanese.

“- _sometime later this week_ ,” Kevin said, his expression serious but gloved fingers twisting around his racquet, a sure tell of his anxiety.

“ _What’s happening later this week_?” she asked as she nudged in between him and Nathaniel.

“ _Riko’s decided to make our numbers permanent_ ,” her brother explained as he brushed the back of his left hand over the ‘3’ inked in black marker over his cheekbone; she almost did the same to the ‘9’ on her face but stopped herself in time.

“ _All of us_?” She glanced at Kevin, who nodded twice.

“ _He has a tattoo artist coming here to do it_ ,” Kevin explained. “ _It’s a show of faith in our skills, to prove to everyone that we are indeed the Perfect Court_.” For all his bluster, his hands kept twisting away.

He sounded more like a parrot than a Raven.

Yet none of them pointed that out, even though Natalie suspected that her brother and Jean weren’t happy with the idea (she wasn’t, either). They may be Moriyama property, may spend years playing Exy for the main branch, to have bloodstained hands (well, her and Nathaniel) because they killed on command for the family, but all Riko could do to them was knock them around on court and saddle them with mocking (to him) names.

Yet Kevin was stuck with the asshole (asshole snake, per Nathaniel) as a partner, had to live with his constant putdowns and ‘not good enough’s. Natalie recognized emotional and mental abuse when she saw it, and Riko was becoming an expert as he mastered his skills on the young man who was supposed to be his brother.

He learned from his uncle, after all.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she, Nathaniel or Jean could do, other than be as supportive of Kevin as possible, not when Kevin clearly fell under the side branch, when Tetsuji had laid claim to him all those years ago.

(Natalie and her brother had their suspicions about that, especially after Kevin had recently found a letter from his mother in Tetsuji’s library while there waiting for the man to go over his and Jean’s class schedules for the year, where Kaleigh named his father and the fact that the man had no idea of his involvement in Kevin’s birth.)

“ _Yeah, but it’s still another year until Natalie officially plays, two for you guys and three for me,”_ Nathaniel argued. “ _What’s the rush_?”

Kevin ducked his head as a slight blush spread across his acne-marked cheeks. “ _You know Riko, once he gets an idea in his head, it’s stuck. He didn’t like the one article going on about how Schear’s the best striker out there_.”

Ah, that was it; a jealous Riko wanted to do something to yank the attention away from the starting striker of the New York Barons (a team his father owned, which made it worse) and focus it on himself. Natalie didn’t feel that was worth getting another tattoo, but doubted it warranted calling Ichirou to put a stop to it.

“ _But it’s not like he’s the best_ ,” Nathaniel muttered. “ _You’re better than him, Kev_.”

Kevin’s green eyes widened with fear as he glanced around. “ _No, I’m not_ ,” he rushed to say, his hands tightening on his racquet once more. “ _I’m not as good as Riko_.”

Nathaniel clearly didn’t believe him, but a slight nudge from Jean made him keep his mouth shut, other than to mutter something in Russian which Natalie was certain wasn’t anything good; she’d tried to keep up with her brother’s linguistic ability, but it seemed other than a few simple phrases, three languages was her limit.

“ _All I know is someone better behave or they’ll put a crow on his face_ ,” Jean teased, a reference to Nathaniel’s nickname, which earned him a stuck-out tongue. That seemed to put Kevin at ease as he took to teasing Nathaniel, too, by making cawing noises and flapping his arms as if wings, so Natalie smiled and left the boys alone. By the time she rejoined Thea, Riko had returned to Kevin’s side and of course joined Kevin and Jean; it was more mocking on his part, but Nathaniel stoically put up with it since Kevin continued to smile.

One could put up with a lot when they could easily imagine slicing their tormentor’s throat with the knife tucked into their shin guard.

It was how she put up with a few of the Ravens who blew kisses at her and the other girls, who made rude comments and were a bit heavy-handed in their checks out on court, but nothing more than that since she’d offered to castrate John. The team knew that she was Nathaniel’s foster sister, that she was academically held back because she’d had a ‘difficult’ family life (between Nathan and Tetsuji, they’d manage to hide her past with the Bloodhounds), which she supposed explained her carrying a knife at all times. All she cared about was they knew not to mess with her or Nathaniel – at least, not too much.

In the end, they were at Castle Evermore, were part of the Ravens; they were at the stadium and with the team that Tetsuji Moriyama - the founder ( _one_ of them) of Exy – had built from scratch and made famous. Castle Evermore was where the US Court resided and the Ravens were the only Exy team to have never lost a game yet, so his _name_ , his _opinion_ , mattered.

Riko leaned hard on his connection to his uncle, on being the ‘heir’ to Exy. At first, he (and Kevin) had been mascots to the Ravens, a curiosity of sorts, but that had steadily changed ever since Natalie and Nathaniel had come to the Nest. Riko grew more controlling, more abrasive (more abusive) and envious as the Ravens fawned over Nathaniel. However, as he grew older, he allowed Nathaniel to take over his ‘mascot’ position in favor of making it clear to the Ravens that he wasn’t their cheerleader but their ‘king’, was the one who would one day soon lead them.

As he drew closer to eighteen, to when he would become a freshman at Edgar Allan and officially join the team, more and more Ravens began to fall in step behind him.

Natalie suspected that was the real message behind the tattoos, not just to the Exy world that they were the Perfect Court but a reminder to the Ravens that soon, the five of them would be stepping into the slots long reserved for them, with Riko as number one, as the king.

There were days when she wondered if it really would have been too much for Lola to have just stabbed her back in the warehouse in Detroit.

(Okay, that was a bit dramatic of her, but she was growing exasperated in dealing with moody, spoiled and potentially psychotic teenage boys all the time.)

The tattooist showed up two days later, an elderly man with his grey hair shaved close to his scalp who spoke in Japanese as he called them in one by one; Riko went first, of course, which meant Natalie sat with the boys while they waited for their turn. Kevin put on a brave face but couldn’t control the jumpiness in his left leg, Nathaniel was emotionless, long taught to endure, and Jean held on to Natalie’s hand for comfort.

Riko came out bragging that it didn’t hurt at all, but his eyes were red as if he’d been crying. He insisted on going in with Kevin even though he’d gone through it alone (probably to hide his reaction), and Kevin was eager to accept the company even though Riko was sure to mock him if he acted afraid or in pain. Sure enough, when they came out around twenty minutes later, Riko was laughing at his partner while Kevin appeared relieved it was over.

Nathaniel looked at Natalie, who nodded and told Jean to go with him, that she’d be all right. Jean also appeared relieved that he wouldn’t have to go in alone and followed at her brother’s heels as if his overgrown shadow. She played a game on her phone while she waited, and smiled when they both stepped out of the room.

“It stung,” Nathaniel admitted as he motioned to the small bandage on his face. “Nowhere as bad as a burn, though. You should be fine since you’ve gone through it before.”

“It was quick,” Jean added. “Ram told me to close my eyes and count down from a hundred and it was done.”

“Then I’ll barely notice it. You two don’t have to wait for me, go start your homework.” When Nathaniel hesitated, she turned to Jean. “How far is he behind on it?”

Jean smirked as he ratted out his partner. “Three days on his history assignment.”

Nathaniel’s face grew flushed with indignation as he shoved Jean away (or tried, since Jean was taller and heavier than him). “You bastard! See if I help you with your trig anymore because you spent too long mooning after the Sirens captain!”

Now it was Jean’s turn to grow flushed. “I... that’s not… shut up!” He stomped away, his cheeks bright red as he called Nathaniel a brat in French; Nathaniel gave Natalie a quick hug before he chased after his partner, taunting him all the while (in French) about drooling so much whenever the striker swung his racquet that Nathaniel was going to get a bucket the next time one of the team’s games aired.

Jean might have a point about Nathaniel being a bit of a brat, Natalie thought as she went to get tattooed.

Jean was also right about the tattoo being done quickly; the old man motioned for her to lay on what was an examination table borrowed from the medical area, with the top part adjusted so Natalie sat mostly upright. He fixed a standing light so it shown on her face then applied some sort of cleanser to it, followed by a stencil. Once it transferred to her skin, he used a tattoo gun to ink the ‘9’ onto her cheekbone in the same spot where she drew the number on it almost every day for the past four years.

Despite the sensitive location, her second tattoo was a much better experience than her first one.

She was about to sit up, the tattoo done and bandaged, when the man finally spoke to her. “ _I’ll be back for you._ ”

“ _Excuse me_?” She gazed at him in confusion as she motioned to the new tattoo. “ _Aren’t you done?_ ”

He shook his head as he handed her a slip of paper with instructions on how to care for the tattoo written in Japanese and English. “ _No, the lord’s orders_.” She stiffened at that. “ _You’re to have another tattoo done_.” He tapped the back of his right shoulder. “ _Think of something suitable_.”

Natalie supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised, not when the Moriyamas owned her, not when she (and Nathaniel) killed for them. In a way, it might make things easier, might help them fit in better with their yakuza counterparts, just as speaking Japanese did. “ _And my brother? Him too_?” Despite all those things, she disliked the idea of Nathaniel being subjected to such a thing at such a young age.

He’d been through enough already; she’d spare him what she could.

The tattoo artist shook his head. “ _Not yet, when he’s older. He’s still too small_.”

She let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding when she heard that and inclined her head to the man, then got off the table to leave. She was almost at the door when an idea occurred to her. “ _Would a suzuka be suitable_?” She thought the legendary sunbird would fit well over her existing crude tattoo.

He regarded her while he took apart his tattoo gun then nodded. “ _Yes, I can work with that. Let me see your back_.”

She felt a little self-conscious exposing the stick and poke tattoo on her back that Jorge had given her when she was twelve, the pair of angel wings which (ironically) looked more like they belonged to a demon. Yet the artist didn’t say anything, merely gave her skin a light stroke as if testing the surface of a canvas then tapped her shoulder as if to let her know he was done.

“ _I’ll be back in two weeks, then we’ll begin. It’ll take some time, especially since I’m not to interfere with your practice_.”

Natalie bowed her head in understanding then left.

Riko was smugness personified after receiving his tattoo, was so eager to show it off when the media came to check how the Ravens fared during their preseason training. Unfortunately, the asshole could put on a show while out on the court, both him and Kevin.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been playing Exy for most of their life or anything.

Yet as much as the two were a force to be reckoned with, able to fire almost impossible shots on the goal with ease, Nathaniel and Jean had formed a strong partnership which enabled them to provide an almost impenetrable defense, and an even stronger one with Natalie in the goal. There was a deep level of trust and communication between them, to the point that they always knew where the other was when out on court.

If they were paired with Riko and Kevin, then the opposing team was all but shut off from the goal. If they weren’t? Then Riko and Kevin had to fight hard for each point.

As for Natalie, she finally felt as if she wasn’t some sort of imposter while out on court with the number nine emblazoned on her uniform and now skin. She would never be the best goalie alive, but she’d pushed herself hard the last six years to be worthy of a team like the Ravens, to earn her spot as a starting goalie come the next year.

The media was already counting down the days to when that happened, for her debut next fall and then when all of the Perfect Court would be reunited with Nathaniel’s early collegiate start (she had a feeling if he could be rushed any quicker into university, he would). Exy wasn’t as important to Natalie as it was to her brother, Kevin and Riko (Jean felt much the same as she did), but she had to admit that even she looked forward to the day that all five of them were out on court together (well, not Riko).

It wasn’t perfect and it came with a price, but the Nest was probably the closest thing she’d ever had to a home, thanks to Nathaniel, Jean and the few friends she’d made.

As always, that ‘price’ came calling a few days before she was supposed to start on her back tattoo; Shoji Nobuo arrived to take them to their next assignment. Tetsuji gave them a disinterested look as he waved them free of practice, while Riko glared from his spot on court.

“I’ll probably be back tomorrow,” Natalie told Thea as she handed her racquet to her partner.

“Have fun doing whatever.” All Thea knew was that Natalie and Nathaniel got called off on ‘Moriyama’ business now and then; from what Jean told them, the speculation among the Ravens was that it had to do with translations, though why the Moriyamas needed to go after a fourteen-year-old to do it for them….

Still, better that they didn’t suspect the truth.

Such as that the Moriyamas used a fourteen-year-old (and his almost nineteen-year-old sister) as a killer.

“ _Where are we going_?” Nathaniel asked once Shoji was driving them to the airport. “ _New York or Chicago_?”

“Annapolis,” Shoji answered while he motioned for Nathaniel to put on his seatbelt.

Natalie, in the process of tucking her hair into a small bun, stilled when she heard mention of the city then turned to glance at her brother, who sat in the back seat of the SUV. Nathaniel’s face was expressionless as he clicked the seatbelt into place.

“ _Annapolis is the Butcher’s territory_.”

Shoji shrugged and switched lanes to make the airport exit. “ _Lord Kengo wants the job done right_.”

That… was an unexpected answer; Natalie gazed at her brother, but he didn’t press for more information, well aware that Shoji was very loyal to Lord Kengo. They were probably lucky he’d said as much as he had. But it begged the question – _why_ did Lord Kengo want the job ‘done right’? Had Nathan or one of his people messed something up?

Despite the fact that Nathan was (in a roundabout way) responsible for her getting away from the Bloodhounds, she wouldn’t shed a tear if something happened to him or any of his people – except Mary. She owed Mary for getting her out of Baltimore, for keeping her somewhat safe in that house of horror, and knew that Nathaniel loved his mother.

They found out that their latest ‘task’ was some guy who lived alone and commuted back and forth from DC every day. Part of the reason they were dealing with him (Natalie had learned to ignore the names by then) was that there was a large dog door (but no dog, Shoji assured them, which made her and Nathaniel not want to ask about what happened to it) which Nathaniel should fit through (for once, she made no jokes about her brother’s scrawny figure).

Part of her wondered what the guy had done to warrant the Moriyamas after his head, but she knew it was better that she never found out; if there was one thing she’d learned after taking twenty-one (now to be twenty-two) lives for the yakuza family, it was that no one was safe from them.

After landing in DC, they got into another SUV, that one a neutral grey color and a less expensive model. Shoji drove them to the western part of Annapolis, a neighborhood with what Natalie assumed were ‘normal’ houses, ones with a small patch of grass around them and two car garages, ones that probably cost around half a million just because of their location. Yet if there was one thing Baltimore had taught her, it was that a nice or expensive house didn’t mean it was a home.

Shoji stopped at a gas station with a convenience store, where she and Nathaniel slipped out of the SUV, dressed in baggy casual clothes which masked their true sizes, wigs to hide their hair color (and hoods pulled up as well), and makeup on their faces to mask their just-healed tattoos. They went inside to buy a couple snacks, long enough for Shoji to drive off without them.

They left and wandered around the neighborhood, just a pair of kids much like others who roamed about, until the sun went down. Their target, much like other working adults in the area, wouldn’t return home for a while due to the long commute, so once they were certain no one was paying any attention to them, they snuck into the backyard of the target’s house.

It took Nathaniel a couple minutes to wiggle his way through the doggie door, then another to double-check that there wasn’t an alarm. Natalie crouched in the shadows and kept watch the entire time, and let out a slow breath when her brother finally unlocked the back door. “System’s not activated,” he whispered as he stepped out of the way.

She scoffed as she handed him his backpack. “Probably counted on the dog.” Then she felt like a jerk when her brother’s face went blank at the comment and resolved not to mention the animal again.

The inside of the house didn’t match the outside; there were empty spots from missing furniture and cheap pieces mixed in with the nice ones that remained, a coating of dust over most of it. There were still dog food bowls and toys strewn about, and pictures of the target with a smiling woman and a large, golden dog hung on the walls.

Natalie and her brother ignored them as much as possible.

They prepared for the target to arrive then stood near the entrance to the garage, careful not to touch anything even though they wore gloves. After half an hour or so, her phone pinged with a message from Shoji that the target was about to arrive home.

Nathaniel pulled the mask over his face, a leering devil creature, while Natalie stepped into the laundry room off to the side of the hallway. A couple minutes later, the garage door opened and a car pulled inside, then the door rumbled down to close. The target was mumbling to himself when he opened the door from the garage and stepped into the house; he flicked on the hall light and looked up in time to see Nathaniel’s masked figure standing about a dozen feet in front of him.

“What the hell?” He dropped his keys in shock, and Natalie took advantage of his surprise to slide out of the laundry room behind him to wrap her left arm around his upper chest and shove her knife near his face.

“Move or make a noise and you’ll lose an eye,” she warned.

“Wh-ah!” He froze up as she moved the knife closer to his right eye; while she distracted him, Nathaniel rushed forward and grabbed his left hand. “What are you-“

“Quiet,” she hissed as she twisted the knife about to flash the light into his eyes.

“Okay! I-ow!” He hissed in pain as Nathaniel jabbed the needle into a vein on the back of his hand then quickly injected the propofol. Before he could complain or say anything else, the drug began to make him dizzy and out of it; Natalie and her brother worked together to haul him upstairs to the bathroom they’d already prepared, aware that they hadn’t been given that much of the sedative.

Nathaniel plugged up the tub, which already had hot water running in it, while Natalie stripped the target of his clothes. Once he was naked, they lifted him again (grateful as always for their daily workouts) and placed him in the tub (more or less). Nathaniel held the man still while Natalie used one of the kitchen knives she’d grabbed to slice into the target’s forearms, to cut vertically into the veins.

“Don’t forget to nick where I put the drug in.”

“I know.” She covered the mark of the needle and ‘banged’ the hand against the tub as well, then wrapped the target’s hand around the handle of the knife. He moaned a couple times, the sounds faint and drawn out, but never completely woke up before he bled out.

They remained in the bathroom until they were certain that he was dead, then ensured that the area was properly staged and they hadn’t left any evidence behind before Nathaniel texted Shoji that their job was done and they’d leave the house in another hour. Their minder texted back a pick-up location, and that was that.

“I hope Jean’s okay,” Nathaniel said as they leaned against each other while they stood in the hallway downstairs.

“I’m sure he is, Riko knows he’s ours.” They paid enough to ensure that Jean was safe.

“That means Riko’s taking it out on Kevin, then.” Nathaniel sounded unhappy about that, but what could they do? They’d already given the Moriyamas their word for Jean, had killed yet another person (with no sign of it stopping any time soon) to keep just one of their own away from harm.

“Kevin has to deal with Riko on his own,” she told her brother. “I’m sorry.” It sucked, but it was the truth.

Her brother hugged her tight. “Not your fault. Let’s hope he stands up to the asshole snake soon.”

“Hmm, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Natalie smiled as she rested her cheek on top of Nathaniel’s head and enjoyed the peaceful moment with him while it lasted.

*******

Nathaniel scowled at where Riko and Kevin were hanging all over Lydia, the defensive dealer, while her partner, Sara, appeared to be focused on the new plays that Tetsuji wanted the strikers to learn. “Why are they bothering her so much?”

Natalie put down the mystery book she’d been reading, Thea paused in texting on her phone and Jean stopped checking the lineups of the other Division I teams to stare at him. “What?” He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at each of them in turn. “ _What_?”

“You see, Nat, there’s this thing called the birds and the bees,” Thea said in a condescending manner. “I know you’re still waiting for a growth spurt, but I didn’t think you were _that_ far behind with puberty.”

He threw the wrapper of the granola bar he’d just ate at her face while Jean chuckled and Natalie gave her partner a displeased look. “I know about that stuff,” Nathaniel muttered as he tried not to think about some of the things that his father’s people had bragged about. “I just don’t know why Riko and Kevin are acting like idiots all of a sudden and why Lydia’s letting them.”

“Oh.” Thea frowned as she glanced at the other table. “Eh, hormones make people stupid,” she said as she flicked back a few braided strands of her dark hair.

He looked at his sister for a better explanation. “Some people… some people think of the attention as a positive,” Natalie said, her voice quiet and brow furrowed. “As for Riko and Kevin… they’re young and things get complicated with them, considering their close nature.”

Nathaniel scrunched his nose and slumped down in his chair. “Jean and I are close, but I’m not interested when he goes off with Miles.”

“For which I am very thankful.” Jean glowered as he poked Nathaniel in the ribs. “Just the thought of it is enough to give me nightmares for weeks.”

“Like I wanna be there when you two get all sweaty with each other. Eww.” Nathaniel twisted in his seat before Jean could poke him again. “Though… is it worth it, all that kissing?” he mused. Stuck at the Nest most of the time (and with yakuza or people he was about to kill the rest), he did wonder about it. People certainly seemed to like it.

Thea groaned as she slumped against Natalie. “Lee… how is he like this? How can he be so cute when he’s a such a terror out on court? I’ve seen him regularly take down players twice his size yet I want to hug him right now.”

“Please don’t,” Natalie insisted while Nathaniel shook his head.

“A curious little crow as always,” Jean teased, which made Nathaniel frown. But before he could insult his partner back, Jean smiled and hooked a finger beneath his chin. “Here.” He pulled Nathaniel toward him for a kiss, a gentle press of chapped lips against his own which lasted a few seconds. “Are you amazed now, mon petit corbeau? Swooning in love?”

“I’m about to gag, bleh.” Nathaniel stuck out his tongue as he shoved his hand in his laughing partner’s face. “Still not getting why you suck face with Miles so much.”

“Somehow, I’ll live on after your rejection,” Jean sneered in that haughty way of his.

“Hmm, maybe it just means you’re not into guys,” Thea mused. “Let’s see.” Before Nathaniel could blink, she tugged him forward by his shirt for a kiss as well; her lips were softer and she smelled better than Jean (something fruity?), but he felt much the same during the whole thing. “Well?” she asked when she let him go.

“Nothing,” he admitted as he sat back in his chair, then stilled when he noticed ‘that’ look on his sister’s face. “Lee? You okay?”

She nodded once as she stared at her partner. “Don’t do that again, Thea.”

Thea gave her a curious look as she picked up her phone. “What? Kiss your brother?” She laughed and waved her right hand in the air. “You know it was a joke, right?” When Natalie continued to give her a flat stare, Thea’s smile faltered. “It _was_ a joke, Lee. I’m not into kids.”

“Don’t do it again,” Natalie repeated, her tone final; Thea nodded, her expression troubled.

It was quiet at the table for the rest of the break, which fortunately wasn’t long. Nathaniel was eager to get back out on court for the last practice of the day, even if it would be an exhausting one. Summer training was always rough as Tetsuji pushed the rookies hard to acclimate to the Ravens, but pre-season was under a lot of scrutiny that year since Riko, Kevin and Jean were finally officially joining the team (along with two other rookies).

Nathaniel was excited to see Jean and Kevin play in games, to be one year closer to participating in them himself, but as he stood on the side while waiting for his turn to do drills, he frowned while he watched how many of the Ravens, mostly the non-upperclassmen, deferred to Riko. “ _They really do act as if he’s the king_ ,” Nathaniel murmured to Jean in French.

“ _Close enough since he’s already been named captain of the team_.” Jean’s expression was carefully blank as he smoothed his thumb over the red tape wrapped around his black racquet. “ _The only freshman to be assigned the position, imagine that_.”

“ _What **are** the odds_?” Nathaniel drawled, and inwardly winced when Leif was struck by Tetsuji’s cane for being slightly off on the latest drill. “ _Rumor is that he and Kevin are going to be drafted to a pro team, too_.” That was something Shoji had told him and Natalie after their last assignment.

Jean arched a thick eyebrow at that. “ _Really? The Barons_?”

A safe assumption since that team was owned by Kengo. “ _No, the Wildcats_.”

“Ah.” Jean’s brows drew together as he thought about that. “ _That explains why he’s been more of an ass the last few days_.”

The Wildcats were a good team and usually made the play-offs, but knowing Riko, he would have expected the Barons to offer a contract to him (and Kevin) since they were the better team _and_ it would have been an acknowledgement of sorts from Kengo.

Nathaniel took a good bit of pleasure in the fact that Riko was continuously thwarted in his goal to be recognized by his father and brother.

Kevin joined him, Jean, Natalie and Thea once they were done scrimmaging; Riko stood next to his uncle and did ‘captain’ stuff (called out people to be punished). “It’s so weird to see Jean paired with Thea and not you,” Kevin commented as he stood next to Nathaniel.

“At least she’ll keep him from slacking off this year until I get out there and make sure he does his share of the work.” Nathaniel wrinkled his nose at his partner when Jean gave him the finger.

“You only work so hard because you’re a tiny little crow,” Jean taunted. “The refs should allow you twenty steps because your legs are so short!”

“Well, they take pity on you because you’re _French_!”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you suck at _everything_!”

“Boys,” Natalie said as she slowly swung her racquet between them while Kevin and Thea grinned. “No fighting.”

“Who’s fighting, just pointing out the obvious,” Nathaniel muttered while he glared at his tall bastard of a partner.

“You’re such a child,” Jean accused while he tucked back the strands of his bangs which had slipped free from his red bandanna.

“Better a child than a mutton-head bastard.” When Natalie gave him a disappointed look, Nathaniel sighed. “Sorry, Lee.”

“You know the rules; save it for your opponent, not your friends,” she chided as she lifted her racquet, then smiled. “Besides, you’re both children.”

Thea laughed while Kevin shook his head. “You two should learn by now that you can’t win against her.”

“I didn’t know we were trying,” Jean muttered while Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at his sister, which made her smile widen.

He reached out to give Kevin a slight punch on the left shoulder. “How does it feel to be vice-captain?”

Kevin managed a weak smile as he looked over the court. “Not much different. Riko… Riko has definitely taken charge, there’s not much for me to do.”

Meaning that Riko didn’t leave a lot for him to do; for all that the media focused on ‘Riko and Kevin’, on ‘#1 and #2’… as far as Riko was concerned, Kevin was a side note to him and his glorious future.

Nathaniel made sure that no other Ravens were around them, aware that Thea wouldn’t call them out for speaking French. “ _You’re better than him, why do you let him treat you like this_?” Beside him, Jean and Natalie gave curt nods.

As always, Kevin shook his head. “ _Thanks, but it’s not true, he’s the best and I better get back to practice_ ,” he answered in his rough French.

They watched him run back to Riko’s side, where he was all but ignored by his partner and Tetsuji. Jean sighed and made a flicking motion with his left hand. “ _You can’t force someone to do what they don’t want to_.”

“ _I know_ ,” Nathaniel sighed, frustrated at how Kevin refused to step out of Riko’s shadow and acknowledge his own worth, frustrated at how the Ravens meekly allowed Riko to scream at them about how ‘worthless’ and ‘untalented’ they were in a fucked up way to get them to play better, frustrated at how no one blinked an eye when Tetsuji’s cane swung down again and again on a player’s back.

He was frustrated at how all he and these people wanted was play Exy and excel at the sport, and had to endure two sadists in order to do that. The worst part? He, Natalie and Jean had no choice but to do it, but Thea, Miles and the others? They’d willingly signed up for the abuse, all in the hopes of a professional contract at the end of their five years.

Nathaniel realized he wasn’t normal, that someone his age shouldn’t know multiple ways to kill a person, let alone have carried them out, but he just… he didn’t _understand_ people. Why put yourself through this when you could sign with the Trojans or Penn State or another high-ranking team?

He was proud to be a Raven because he _was_ one. But if he could get Natalie and Jean free of the Nest while still honoring his deal with Ichirou? He’d leave the Ravens in a heartbeat.

He knew it would never happen, though.

Though he wondered if Jean would leave, considering the way he was mooning over Miles as they headed to the shower room. “Why do you even like him? Sara’s a better striker and she’s a rookie,” Nathaniel grumbled as he regarded the blond junior yet again. “His number is _27_.”

Jean rolled his eyes as he shoved Nathaniel ahead. “Not everything is about Exy, mon petit corbeau.”

“Hmph, I think your taste in men is lousy, mon cher bœuf,” Nathaniel shot back as he threw his sweaty jersey and laughed when Jean threatened to drown him in the shower.

His good mood faded when they reached the one corner they always used for bathing and overheard Riko mocking Kevin for the classes he must have picked in the last day or two; Nathaniel wanted to throw his container of shampoo at the asshole snake, but he knew it would only make things worse for Kevin in the end. Instead, he let Jean distract him by teasing him on how if maybe they put plant food in his shampoo that he’d grow another few centimeters.

It was only a couple weeks before the season officially started when a bunch of reporters showed up at Castle Evermore; everyone was confused since the news had already broken about Riko and Kevin signing to the Wildcats. Nathaniel had just complained to Jean about how he hoped that they would still be able to practice that day when Matsumoto motioned for him to follow, along with Natalie.

Nathaniel suspected that he wasn’t going to be able to practice that day.

It turned out that the reporters were there hoping to interview him and Natalie about their lives in Baltimore since Nathan Wesninski had been taken into custody the day before on three counts of witness tampering, five counts of money laundering… and as a suspect in his wife’s death.

Nathaniel’s vision darkened for a moment and a sharp pain stabbed into his chest when he heard that his mother was dead, that she had most likely (no, there was no doubt in his mind about) died at his father’s hand (at last). Tetsuji broke the news to him and his sister in a dispassionate manner then went on to explain how the press would be handled; Nathaniel and Natalie had little contact with Nathan or Mary since arriving at Castle Evermore because of the demands of their athletic aspirations, and had always assumed that Nathan was the businessman he’d appeared to be. Tetsuji would insinuate that Mary had arranged things with him to get the two of them away from Baltimore, to send them somewhere safe ( _ha_ ), and nothing else would be said.

The press gave up after a few days, frustrated or bored with Tetsuji stonewalling them, of Nathaniel’s and Natalie’s blank stares and silence. It came as no surprise that as soon as they left campus, the two of them were called to New York.

Nathaniel didn’t know if it was for work or something related to his father, and was in the process of gnawing his bottom lip bloody when Natalie handed him a cup of tea then sat in the seat next to his. “ _It’ll be okay_ ,” she assured him in French. “ _We still have each other_.”

He gave her a sad smile. “ _Aren’t you tired of looking after me yet?”_

“ _Never_ ,” she promised as she wrapped his hands around the mug. “ _Aren’t you terribly embarrassed to have your sister follow you around everywhere_?”

He wrinkled his nose. “ _Only when you do things like flirt with Sara right in front of me_.”

“ _Ah, I see_.” A slight blush colored Natalie’s round cheeks. “ _I didn’t think you noticed_.”

“ _Please_ ,” Nathaniel scoffed. “ _I might not be interested in that stuff, but I know what it means when you play with the ends of your hair and giggle at a girl, especially after watching you do it with Octavia so much_.”

“ _Hmm, I miss her_ ,” Natalie admitted. “ _And don’t let Thea or Riko or any of the others bother you about not being interested in that stuff, okay? You’re fine_.”

“ _I know_ ,” Nathaniel sighed; his sister and Jean had been telling him that for the past year or so as he watched in a disinterested manner as his older teammates paired off together for temporary flings. While he had some curiosity about why they had sex, it was more in a clinical manner than him wanting to do it himself.

Jean surmised that he’d be interested once he hung around people his actual age, but Nathaniel wasn’t that certain.

He spent the rest of the flight teasing his sister about Sara, which Natalie allowed with good grace, and so wasn’t quite a huge ball of anxiety when Shoji drove them to the Moriyamas’ downtown office building. They went up to the usual room where they waited for Ichirou to see them, where Koharu served them green tea and snacks.

Ichirou eventually arrived with only one bodyguard, Daiki, his hair tousled and the sleeves of his charcoal grey dress shirt rolled up to his elbows as if he’d had a busy and exhausting day. “ _My condolences to you_ ,” he told them with a slight bow. “ _Mary Hatford was a remarkable woman_.”

Nathaniel felt his chest tighten at the reminder of his mother’s death, yet kept his expression impassive as he returned the bow, certain that Natalie did the same. “ _Thank you, sir_.”

“ _It’s never easy to lose one’s mother_.” Something dark flashed through Ichirou’s eyes as he straightened up. “ _I_ -“

As Ichirou spoke, someone entered the room, someone Nathaniel had never seen before; he wasn’t Japanese (wasn’t yakuza), was a white man around Nathan’s age with a lean build and a couple inches on Natalie (so short), blond hair shot with grey around the temples and grey eyes. Nathaniel took all of that in as he and Natalie, who were closest to the door, unsheathed their knives and stood in front of Ichirou.

“Fuck me!” the man shouted as he was presented with two knives in sudden close proximity, one near his throat and the other his liver.

“Sir,” Natalie called out, “Yes or no?”

“Stand down,” Ichirou said, for some reason amused. “He’s a guest.”

They stepped back at the order, weapons lowered but not put away, not just yet; Nathaniel didn’t like the way that the man gazed at him. “What?” he snapped as he edged closer to his sister.

“You… do you know who I am?” the man asked, his voice haggard and possessed with a familiar British accent.

“I….” Nathaniel was about to say ‘no’ when that accent and the grey eyes made him suspect otherwise. “Are you a Hatford?” Beside him, Natalie tensed upon hearing his mother’s maiden name.

“Yeah, I’m your uncle, Stuart Hatford.” The man went to step forward but seemed to rethink it when he remembered the blade clutched in Nathaniel’s right hand. “You can put that away, kiddo, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Nathaniel knew better than to take an adult man’s word at face value, even if he was related to his mother; Natalie shifted closer to him and began to raise her knife.

Ichirou cleared his throat and stepped forward. “It’s all right, Stuart is here to negotiate with me.” He gave a pointed look at Nathaniel and then at the knives Nathaniel and Natalie held. “It’s just as your mother promised, Abram, the Hatfords want to join with the Moriyamas.”

Recognizing the unspoken order, Nathaniel and Natalie put away their weapons while Stuart glared at a faintly smiling Ichirou, who motioned to Daiki to pour two drinks. “As long as you give us access to Abram and that bastard’s head on a pike.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve already delivered the first, haven’t I?” Ichirou waved to Nathaniel before he accepted one of the glasses filled with the whiskey he liked from Daiki; the other was handed to a dubious Stuart. “We’ll finish negotiations another day, right now it’s time for a long overdue family reunion.”

Family Nathaniel didn’t know, other than the stories his mother had told him, a family she’d left to marry a man who abused and eventually killed her. He shivered a little, grateful for Natalie’s reassuring presence at his side, and wondered what all his mother had set in motion between the time she’d sent him to Castle Evermore and before her death.

Not that he had much of a choice but to bear with it, did he? His entire life, he was nothing more than a puppet for others to manipulate and control, and today was no different. He would have to see how this latest twist would change things for him, and do his best to ensure it didn’t cause any harm for Natalie or Jean.

They already owed too much, were entangled with one criminal organization. There was no reason for them to be dragged into the drama of another because of him.

He’d deal with the Hatfords on his own.

Determined to protect his own, he stepped away from Natalie and gave Stuart Hatford a tentative smile. “Hi, Uncle Stuart,” he said while Ichirou nodded in approval.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now there's Jean added to the mix! A Jean who is rather protected, so he's a lot more assured of himself (and has suffered a lot less trauma).
> 
> And Stuart!
> 
> Who are we missing, hmm? I'm sure someone will appear in the next chapter.
> 
> If it wasn't clear, the second target was going through a divorce from his wife, who got custody of the dog, hence why it wasn't in the house. No doggies (or cats) were harmed at all. Promise.
> 
> I did my best with editing and tagging, but it's been... eh, the past couple weeks have been rough and a bit heartbreaking. I really hope to finish ch8 soon.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated.  
> *******


	3. Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is your lucky day, Natty! You get to come along with the big boys on a road trip,” Riko said as his fingers dug into Nathaniel’s right shoulder.   
> Nathaniel went on ‘road trips’ all the time, on Ichirou’s orders to dispose of problems; he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention that to Ichirou’s discarded and mentally unstable brother. “Where are we going? Is Jean coming along?”  
> “Jean, too,” Kevin agreed when Riko finally let go of him. “And to Columbia, South Carolina. I found a potential recruit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! Now for the third chapter of this fic. I hope those who celebrate are enjoying the holiday season. Most people at least are probably looking forward to the end of 2020, I imagine....
> 
> As for this chapter, a certain short blond appears (and his family), which may make you happy. Because of that, some of the chapter is based on the pre-novel scenes Nora Sakavich posted online, so some credit to her.
> 
> Triggers... hm, Nathaniel and Natalie are still doing their 'work' for the main branch, but nothing graphic this time around. Very vague references to Andrew's past. Minor OC characters die off-scene. Mention of drug use (canon), and mention of a Raven being treated not so nice (canon). Mention of a detested minor character being treated not so nice (nothing graphic and just in passing). Let me know if you have any questions.  
> *******

*******

Nathaniel struggled to remain still on the medical bed while Chiasa worked on his tattoo. “ _Aren’t you done yet, old man?_ ” he grumbled, doing his best to ignore the burning sensation around his lower spine.

Chiasa huffed and poked him in the ribs – thankfully, not with the tattoo gun. “ _Brat, I should add ‘obnoxious child’ to this as a warning to your betters._ ”

“ _Nah, they know that as soon as I open my mouth_.”

“ _Huh, true_.” Chiasa chuckled as he continued to shade in the three-tailed, red and black okami on Nathaniel’s back, completing what should hopefully be the finishing touches on the yakuza tattoo that had been started right before he turned seventeen. Nathaniel had been a bit non-plussed when Ichirou had told him that the elderly tattoo artist would arrive at Evermore to do it and what the design would be, but he had to admit the choice was a good one; a creature that could either be benevolent or malevolent, that could protect or destroy, depending on the nature of the person in front of it.

He was about to complain again when the buzzing sound of the tattoo gun (and the burning sensation) ceased. Chiasa grunted in satisfaction as he set the instrument aside then wiped a cloth over Nathaniel’s lower back before spreading ointment on the area. “ _There, all done_.”

“ _About time_.”

Chiasa tapped him on the back of his head before he covered the tattoo. “ _Be thankful you’re so small or it would have taken a few more weeks, brat_.” As it was, he’d finished it in less time than Natalie’s.

That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but at least it was done.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the familiar teasing. “ _Lucky indeed, who knows if you’d live that long_.” Then he squawked as he was pushed back down onto the table.

“ _Stay still, I’m gonna add something else_ ,” Chiasa threatened as he reached for his tattoo gun.

Nathaniel laughed as he shrugged off the old man’s light hold and sat up. “ _Too late, you missed your chance_.” He grinned at the elderly yakuza as he reached for his shirt. “ _Should have done it first thing_.”

“ _Hmph, I foolishly believed your sister when she said you were a good kid_.”

Mention of Natalie made Nathaniel smile. “ _Well, she’s a sweetheart_.” Nathaniel stood up and gave Chiasa a deep bow. “ _Thank you for spending your time on this worthless brat_.” He’d miss the old man, their conversations about art and the way Chiasa put up with his teasing.

“ _At least your sister taught you some manners_ ,” Chiasa said with an approving nod. “ _Be sure to treat my hard work with respect_.”

Nathaniel assured him he would, then helped the tattoo artist clean and box up his supplies before he escorted him to Shoji, who would accompany him back to New York. Once that was done, Nathaniel returned to his room, where Jean waited for him.

All he wanted was to stretch out on his bed, tease his partner about his lousy grade on his last science test and be distracted from how much his back itched for the next few hours, so of course he had to run across Riko and Kevin (well, not so much Kevin). Nathaniel was about to duck into the Red Hall’s break room when the asshole snake called out his nickname.

“Sansokuu! Flap your wings and come here.”

Nathaniel kept the ‘fuck off’ internal and instead managed a mostly civil “yes, captain” as he did as commanded; he supposed he should be grateful that the asshole hadn’t said ‘heel’ as there’d been a few dog jokes when the older Ravens had first caught sight of his tattoo.

A few scrimmages out on court had put an end to that.

Still, Riko proved that he was a true bastard by smacking Nathaniel on the back (fortunately the upper part, which had already healed) once he was within reach, his grin the wide one with teeth bared which meant he was in a good mood because he’d just found a new toy (to destroy).

Nathaniel had grown up with monsters and supposed that he was one as well, but he honestly considered Riko to be one fucked up individual.

“This is your lucky day, Natty! You get to come along with the big boys on a road trip,” Riko said as his fingers dug into Nathaniel’s right shoulder.

Nathaniel went on ‘road trips’ all the time, on Ichirou’s orders to dispose of problems; he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention that to Ichirou’s discarded and mentally unstable brother. “Where are we going? Is Jean coming along?”

“Jean, too,” Kevin agreed when Riko finally let go of him. “And to Columbia, South Carolina. I found a potential recruit.”

“Isn’t it a little early for a recruiting trip? It’s not even February yet.”

Riko latched on to his partner’s shoulder instead, which made Kevin twitch for a moment before he bore the assault with long-practiced ease; Nathaniel wished that his friend would just haul off and punch the asshole snake one of these days. “Yes, but Kevin insists that the kid is some sort of prodigy and we can’t wait any longer.” Riko laughed, the sound high and mocking, before he leaned toward Nathaniel. “You’ll like him, _San_ -so-kuu,” Riko sang out as he tapped his right index finger against the number tattooed on Nathaniel’s cheek while he stood there without flinching. “He’s even shorter than you, and almost as much a criminal as you and your sister. _Almost_.”

Nathaniel _barely_ resisted the urge to slice off the asshole’s finger. “Is that why you want me to tag along, then?”

Riko’s dark eyes glittered with twisted malice. “No, you and Doe can exchange tips on how best to go about stabbing people later, tonight I want you and Jean there as bait.” When Nathaniel merely stared at his ‘captain’ for that cryptic comment and Kevin hung his head, Riko chuckled. “It seems our little goalie hooligan has a thing for young men. Want to put money down on which of the two of you does it for him?”

“Riko,” Kevin murmured, only to grimace in pain when his ‘dear’ partner dug his fingers in even harder.

“I’m not going to let you whore Jean out,” Nathaniel warned, his ‘patience’ done with Riko and his pathetic games.

The asshole snake must have realized it, too, because hatred flashed across his face for a moment before he resumed smiling. “So crass, little Nat.” He dared a quick pat to Nathaniel’s cheek before he finally let go of Kevin and stepped back (stepped out of reach). “You’ll merely be eye candy, honest. Be ready in two hours,” he called out over his shoulder as he pretended to saunter away without a care.

That left Nathaniel alone with Kevin in the hallway for once; he waited until Riko was out of hearing range before he broke into French, mindful not to talk too fast since Kevin wasn’t as good at the language as him, Natalie and Jean. “ _Just say the word, I’m sure we can arrange some sort of accident for the prick_.”

Kevin appeared scandalized by the suggestion. “ _No! You know that’s impossible_.” When Nathaniel simply gazed at his friend (his job was to do the ‘impossible’, at least as far as Ichirou was concerned), Kevin shook his head. “ _It’s all right, really_.”

No, it wasn’t, but Nathaniel wasn’t going to put him, his sister and probably Jean into trouble and deeper debt when Kevin wasn’t willing to stand up for himself. “ _About this goalie… Doe_?” Was that really the guy’s name?

“ _Minyard, Andrew Minyard_ ,” Kevin sighed. “ _Riko’s being a_ -“

“ _Asshole, as always_.”

“ _Yeah_.” For once, Kevin didn’t try to argue. “ _He’s good, really good_.” It looked as if he wanted to say something else but shook his head instead. “ _We need to sign him_.”

Nathaniel wasn’t too sure about that, especially if Riko wanted him (wanted a new toy), just nodded before he returned to his room; Kevin was as stubborn as a bulldog when it came to Exy.

Once there, he broke the news of their evening’s plans to Jean, who was indignant over Riko’s intended use of them, and asked his partner to pass on the news to Natalie while he called his uncle.

He got voicemail at first and left a message, which wasn’t unusual, and was called back within a few minutes. 

“Hey, kiddo, what’s going on?”

As always, Nathaniel felt the urge to shiver at the familiar accent which recalled the memory of his mother. “Sorry to bother you, but I need a bit of information. Riko’s dragging me off to South Carolina and I want to know what exactly he’s after.”

“Hmm.” There was a pause while Stuart lit a cigarette. “Bit uppity of him, what if Ichirou needs you for something?”

“Yeah, I also wanted him to know I won’t be available tonight, though Lee’s still here.”

Stuart grunted in acknowledgement then inhaled. “Why’s he taking you there?”

“Something about a new recruit, an Andrew Minyard also known as Andrew Doe, located in Columbia. He’d be a senior in a high school somewhere there, and Riko implied that he has some sort of criminal record. I want to know what’s so special about him.” Why Riko was willing to take Nathaniel and Jean with him, when they didn’t leave the Nest unless it was at Tetsuji’s or Ichirou’s orders. Why he was recruiting so early in the season.

“Got it. I’ll have something for you soon,” Stuart promised. “Long as Ichirou doesn’t nab you for work this weekend, you’ve any time to transcribe something for me?”

Nathaniel had known that asking for a favor would cost him, but Stuart – the _Hatfords_ – had so far been reasonable with what they expected in return from him. “Depends,” he said as he leaned against his desk. “Is it going to be another Russian porno?” He’d felt unclean for days after that one.

“Dammit, I still don’t think Will’s kicked Ally’s ass hard enough for that,” Stuart muttered. “No, it _won’t_.”

“Then yes, I do.”

They talked for a few more minutes, Stuart filling him in on ‘family’ events and Ichirou’s schedule; Nathaniel was still cautious around the man (and about the Hatfords in general), but so far his uncle seemed merely to want to get to know him.

As soon as he put his phone away, Jean caught his attention. “ _She’s not happy that we’re going without her_.”

Somehow, Nathaniel wasn’t surprised. “ _It’s not my idea to leave her behind. If she wants to dress up as me and take my place, let her_.”

“ _But your sister is **taller** than you, little crow_,” Jean taunted with a smug smile, and chuckled when Nathaniel gave him the finger in response.

“ _Stupid mutton-head_ ,” Nathaniel muttered as he motioned for his partner to precede him through the door, “ _you shouldn’t bother with a helmet while out on court_.”

“ _Why, so I can finally come down to your level of intelligence_?”

Why had he bothered to save the French bastard in the first place?

He thought he noticed Jean’s cocky smile slip when they walked past Miles, who was busy texting on his phone, but he was then distracted by Leif and Koby asking to check out his tattoo. There wasn’t much to see of the latest (last) part since it was covered in plastic film, but it got them talking about what they wanted done once they graduated.

Natalie (and Thea) came over to warm up with them, Natalie stretched out beside Nathaniel. “ _Will you be all right_?”

He made a face as he reached to grip his toes. “ _Tempted to push a certain asshole snake out of the plane… but otherwise fine_.”

His sister hid a dimpled smile as she pressed her face against her knees. “ _It’ll be good, you working on your sense of self-restraint_.”

“ _I work on it all the time; he’s still alive, isn’t he_?”

“ _Without me being there to hold you back_ ,” Natalie clarified as she raised her arms above her head.

“ _Yeah, well, no promises_ ,” Nathaniel grumbled as he lay with his left cheek against his knees to better look at his sister. “ _It’s going to be difficult enough to watch this recruit drool over Jean as it is_.”

Natalie lowered her arms to her lap as she regarded him with a puzzled expression. “ _You think he’ll only be interested in Jean_?”

He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before he sat up and shrugged. “ _Maybe Kevin, too_?” There was no way anyone would be interested in Riko, other than Lydia. “ _What_?” he snapped at his sister when her expression took on a pitying edge.

“ _Never mind_.”

He hated when she did stuff like that, gave him odd looks then blew him off, but if she wasn’t in the mood to explain herself, he had better luck getting an answer from his racquet.

Practice was cut short by their little trip to South Carolina; Nathaniel waved to Natalie and Thea before he left court to shower and change. Riko continued to be in a good mood, especially when he was mobbed by fans at the airport in Charleston (no private plane for the discarded son, Nathaniel almost taunted) and then again in Atlanta, where they had dinner during their layover to Columbia.

Nathaniel was more than content to eat his spicy salmon rolls in peace while Riko and Kevin signed napkins and posed for pictures as _their_ meals were interrupted by several ‘adoring’ fans, him and Jean mostly ignored since _they_ weren’t the famous ‘heirs of Exy’. The distraction also allowed him to open the file that Stuart had sent and read it without any inconvenient questions; it seemed that Riko hadn’t exaggerated about Minyard’s criminal past or by calling him ‘Doe’.

Their potential recruit had spent a couple years in a juvenile detention facility for destruction of property and assault (and had caused more problems once there), and had been abandoned at birth by his mother (hence the ‘Doe’ surname). He’d grown up in a series of foster homes until he’d landed in juvie, where he’d come into contact with his birth family at last. Andrew Doe had found a new home and last name, and left California for South Carolina.

Interestingly enough, he’d been involved in a car crash with his birth mother a few months after their belated reunion which had resulted in her death (not suspicious at all), and now lived with an older cousin who’d stepped in to take custody of Andrew and his twin brother (who _hadn’t_ been given up for adoption). Nathaniel skimmed over Minyard’s personality assessment ( _issues_ ) then closed the file.

He was willing to bet that, once Kevin had brought Minyard to Riko’s attention, the asshole snake had seen a troubled kid who’d grown up with next to nothing and thought he could win him over with a fancy sports scholarship, then abuse the shit out of him because he was a nobody.

Oh yes, a new toy indeed.

The Eagles were toward the end of their evening practice in preparation for their next game when an excited Mr. Wilson (principal or something) escorted the four of them to the gym to watch the session – to watch Minyard in action. There was a lot of chatter when the players caught sight of them (of Riko and Kevin, since Nathaniel and Jean lurked in the back), but their coach yelled at them to pay attention and finish the scrimmage.

Nathaniel noticed that Minyard didn’t seem to pay them much mind – at least, not the one in the goal. A short backliner stared at them for a couple seconds before he focused back on the game (the twin, Nathaniel guessed), while the goalie in the ‘home’ goal gazed straight ahead.

He also remained still as the opposing players fired on the goal in an obvious ‘I don’t give a fuck’ snit, until the last two attempts of the game, which were near impossible saves. Nathaniel inwardly smiled while Kevin cursed beneath his breath, impressed by Minyard’s attitude.

Then he caught the sharp grin on Riko’s face, the too bright glitter in his eyes, and was determined to never see Minyard in black and red (to never see him broken).

The coach, a burly man with his head shaved bald, clapped his hands and called out for the team to hit the showers before he came over to the four of them. “Coach Felder,” he said as he held out his hand, which Riko ignored and Kevin shook after a slight pause. “Have to say that I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here to check out one of-“

“We want to talk to Andrew Minyard,” Riko said, his tone bored as he gazed over the man’s shoulder.

Felder frowned and glanced at where the team had gone. “Minyard? Eh… we’ve got some really good players, better team players, like Eric Yo-“

Riko cut him off once again. “Only Minyard, the goalie, is worth our time. Send him out to us.”

And Natalie wondered (well, not really) why Nathaniel wanted to shove the asshole snake out a plane in mid-air; with no media around and while dealing with some low-level coach, Riko apparently saw little need to ‘play nice’.

It appeared as if the Eagles’ coach might agree with Nathaniel, considering the narrow look he gave Riko right then, yet all he did was nod once and head to the locker room.

“ _I don’t know how my uncle manages dealing with these idiots all the time on his recruitment trips,”_ Riko complained in Japanese as he flicked a piece of lint from his Ravens jacket.

Nathaniel and Jean shared a look which clearly said ‘sure, _they’re_ the idiots’, while Kevin made a placating noise. They ended up waiting over twenty minutes for Minyard to join them, during which most of the team left (a few of them daring to approach Riko and Kevin for autographs); Riko grew bored (and annoyed, never a good mix) and began to eye Jean with that dangerous gleam in his eyes which made Nathaniel step in front of his partner with his father’s smile on his face.

That always made Riko back off, the reminder that Nathaniel was more than ‘Natty’ or ‘Sansokuu’ or ‘#3’ (or any of the other stupid nicknames), that he was Ichirou’s weapon.

Andrew Minyard showed up a couple minutes after that, dressed in black clothes with black armbands on his forearms of all things, his twin brother (not dressed in black) skulking in the background. “What do you want?” He possessed a deep voice, perhaps unsurprising considering his broad chest, hazel eyes bright with intelligence, and a face which showed little emotion.

Riko frowned as if confused; Nathaniel imagined he was thinking something along the lines of ‘isn’t it obvious?’. “We’re here to offer you a chance to play for the Ravens,” he said, enunciating each word as if Minyard was a moron.

Right, great way to go about recruiting someone.

Minyard gazed at him for several seconds before he clicked his tongue. “Not interested.”

Jean bit back on a sound that was a half gasp, half chuckle while Nathaniel wished he could take a picture of Riko’s and Kevin’s stunned expressions. “But… we’re the Ravens,” Kevin stuttered out before he seemed to remember that fact, stood up straight and pulled on an arrogant demeanor. “We’re the _Ravens_ , the number one team in the NCAA Class I division, and your best shot at going to the pros.”

“Still not interested,” Minyard drawled as he reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a pack of cigarettes, while Kevin’s expression shifted to offended.

“Not- how can you _not_ be interested?”

Riko ‘grinned’ as he reached behind to latch on to Nathaniel’s left arm (and nearly lost his hand). “He’s probably overwhelmed right now. Perhaps someone a bit less… dazzling should speak. Right, Nathaniel?”

Natalie _so_ owed him for this.

Nathaniel allowed himself to be pulled forward, Jean as always right by his side. “Hi, loved what you did back there in the game,” he said by way of introduction.

“ _Don’t encourage his bad habits_ ,” Kevin hissed in Japanese.

“ _Do you want to do this_?” That seemed to shut the man up. “ _I thought so_.”

“ _Have him bat his eyes at least. Oh, wait **we’re** supposed to do that_,” Jean muttered in French.

“ ** _You_** _are, but I think this one’s too smart to fall for a French loser_.” Nathaniel gave his partner a sweet smile when Jean huffed and held out his middle finger, while Riko’s expression grew stormy and Minyard gazed blankly at the four of them.

“That’s quite the talented tongue you have there,” Minyard said as he focused on Nathaniel.

Before he could respond, Riko chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, hard. “Oh yes, Nathaniel is just full of surprises. Join the Ravens and you can find out _all_ about _him_ and his _tongue_.”

Minyard’s hazel eyes flickered up to Riko, who was probably smiling just then (was enjoying digging his fingers into Nathaniel’s shoulder) then down to where his hand rested on Nathaniel before it returned to Nathaniel’s face. “ _You speak German as well_?” he asked in that language.

Ah, had someone taken advantage of a family member who’d lived in that country, according to the information Stuart had sent along? Nathaniel did speak it, thanks to Leif and Ichirou pushing him to pick up as many languages as possible, but he was still learning. However, he knew it well enough to pass on a warning. “ _Don’t take the offer_ ,” he said, a false smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.

Minyard regarded him intently for a few seconds before he clicked his tongue. “Your accent sucks.” Nathaniel glared at the comment since that was a blatant lie, but it made Riko laugh and let go of his abused shoulder. “What are you offering me?”

Kevin stepped forward in a rush, the confident (arrogant) smile on his face which he wore whenever in front of cameras. “Not only do you get to play for the best Class I team out there, but you’ll receive a full scholarship, a car as a signing bonus and a weekly stipend,” neither of the latter two which Nathaniel, Natalie and Jean had access to since they were ‘property’, “and an almost guaranteed spot on a pro team once you graduate.”

“It’s a chance of a lifetime,” Riko added as he gazed upon Minyard as if he was something to be hacked apart and he wanted to figure out where to start swinging the blade at first. “People would kill to be in your shoes.”

Minyard studied Riko, and Nathaniel was certain that the young man knew what the bright glitter in the asshole snake’s eyes meant, could pick up on the fact that Riko wanted him as more than a rookie goalie. Considering his time spent in juvie and all those foster homes, it wasn’t much of a surprise when Minyard scoffed, flicked the cigarette aside then shook his head. “Let them, because I’m still not interested,” he said as he turned and walked away.

Kevin was once again stunned while Riko’s face darkened with rage as they watched Minyard approach his brother and then the twins leave the gym. For a moment, Nathaniel was worried that Riko would go after the goalie and attack him, until Riko cursed beneath his breath and motioned for them to leave as well.

“We can try again, can-“

Riko cut off Kevin with an abrupt wave of his hand. “Forget him, he’s not worth it,” he snarled. “We don’t need trash like him.”

Somehow, Nathaniel doubted it was that simple, especially when Riko’s pride was stung; he’d ask Matsumoto to keep an eye on anything Minyard-related once they got back to Evermore.

And then hope that the bastard didn’t take out his anger on the rest of the Ravens.

*******

Natalie clenched and unclenched her fingers as Kenta, Shig and Taro removed the bodies of the traitors she and Nathaniel had just killed, the blades still in the corpses to help facilitate the clean-up. Ichirou nodded at her in approval while Stuart clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder; she saw expressions of respect on the faces of the yakuza scattered around the bare, lower level room they’d gathered in to carry out the execution.

“Isamu, per my father, you’ll take over Shiraishi’s responsibilities and claim his property. Reach out to Stuart and Shoji if you need assistance.”

“Understood, sir.” Isamu and the two men with him bowed low to Ichirou; Nathaniel went to stand beside his uncle, and Natalie was about to join him when the phone in the back pocket of her black jeans buzzed.

Since Thea and Jean knew not to bother her when she was away from campus unless it was an emergency, she pulled out her phone to check the message, and frowned when she saw that it was from Matsumoto – and that her brother was doing the same thing. The expression deepened when she read what the assistant coach had sent, but waited until Ichirou was done talking to his lieutenants before she said anything.

As expected of the Moriyama heir, he’d noticed their distracted state and motioned them closer once most of the yakuza had left. “What is it?”

“I told you about the trip to South Carolina to recruit a player for the Ravens,” Nathaniel explained, “only for him to turn the offer down. It seems that hasn’t been taken very well by Riko since Matsumoto’s informed us that a payment’s been authorized to several men who are open to intimidation and assault for the right price.”

Ichirou’s jaw tightened at the mention of his discarded brother. “In other words, he’s willing to involve the side branch in a petty matter.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathaniel and Natalie agreed.

“I see.” Ichirou appeared to think about the matter for a moment before he focused on Natalie. “You will take care of this; I require Abram’s services the rest of the weekend.”

“Understood, sir.” Natalie gave a slight bow as she thought about everything she had to do to clean up yet another of Riko’s messes; it was already late, and she was tired from playing a game then flying to New York to deal with the traitors. “I’ll catch the first flight to Columbia in the morning.” As exhausted as she was and would continue to be, she knew her brother would be working just as hard for Ichirou and Kengo as they winnowed out the last of the disloyal Moriyama followers.

She disliked leaving Nathaniel alone for so long, alone with Ichirou. Alone with a powerful young man who appeared to grow increasingly fascinated with him the more he matured.

She might have to remind Ichirou Moriyama that while they’d sworn to him and his father, would kill and steal for him, there were certain lines they wouldn’t cross.

While Ichirou talked to her brother about their schedule for the next day, she followed Stuart over to the bar, where he poured two glasses of whiskey. “You want one, too?” he asked suddenly, his expression surprised since she didn’t drink alcohol.

She shook her head. “My usual water, and one for Abram.” When he huffed in approval and went about pouring the drinks, she shifted closer. “ _Watch after him while I’m gone_ ,” she asked in French.

Stuart’s pale gaze flickered first at her and then toward Nathaniel and Ichirou; Ichirou now was peering down the back of Nathaniel’s shirt at his healed tattoo. “ _He’ll only be out of my sight to sleep_ ,” the British man promised. “ _Still has no clue, does he_?”

Natalie frowned as she picked up one of the glasses of water. “ _Thinks he looks too much like his father_.” In Nathaniel’s mind that was a negative thing, between Nathan’s abuse and Mary always insulting the man, so why would anyone find him attractive? Riko and a few of the Ravens constantly mocking him for his size didn’t help, either.

Something dark flashed across Stuart’s face before he tossed back about half a tumbler of whiskey. “ _Man’s a demon in the flesh, but he’s a handsome one. Or at least he was_.” Satisfaction curled Stuart’s lips for a moment; from what Natalie knew, Nathan Wesninski was suffering greatly in prison, courtesy of the Hatfords. “ _It’s what drew Mary to him, after all. Of course Abram’s the same and has no fucking idea._ ” He sighed as he headed toward his nephew and a clearly enamored Ichirou with the drinks in his hands.

Yes, of course Nathaniel had his father’s good looks and striking coloring, refined even more with his sharp cheekbones, narrow chin and pouty bottom lip (traces of Mary). No wonder several of the Ravens paid too much attention to him, the Exy forums blew up at any official sight of him, and Ichirou treated him with such affection.

Maybe she should have had that drink.

Stuart managed to pry Ichirou away from Nathaniel and send his tired nephew (and her) off to bed; Raiden drove them to the hotel where they usually stayed when in town, an expensive one favored by the Moriyamas. “ _What time do you need to leave in the morning_ ,” he asked once they were in the SUV.

“ _I’m looking now_.” Natalie used her phone to search for a flight while her brother slumped against her side and rested his head on her shoulder. “ _The first flight is at 6:20am_.” That meant she’d have to leave around 4:30am, which only gave her a couple hours of sleep at that point. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d survived on less.

Raiden groaned at first then chuckled. “ _I’ll make Keiichi drive you, he owes me a favor_.”

“ _As long as I’m not driving, I’m fine_.”

“ _Be careful_ ,” Nathaniel murmured. “ _Don’t do anything too rash and leave me stuck with Jean_.”

Natalie smiled as she rested her head on top of his. “ _I’m not you, remember? I think things through_.”

“ _Yeah, but this is your chance to leave me stuck with Jean_.”

“ _True_.”

She savored the short ride to the hotel, the feel of her brother tucked against her side and the quiet inside the SUV. Then it was up to the suite they shared, a quick shower before bed (Raiden took away the clothes they’d worn that night once they were undressed) and then collapse into bed for an all too brief amount of sleep.

She did her best to move about quietly when her phone went off at 4am, and spent most of her time getting ready on her appearance; a dark, shoulder length wig to hide her blue, purple and mauve hair, and makeup to mask her ‘9’ tattoo as well to subtly alter the contour of her face. Gone was Natalie Shields, replaced by Renee Walker, her preferred alias for jobs like these.

All she took was a backpack filled with a few articles of clothes, a wallet with her fake ID, a credit card and lots of cash, a burner phone, two paperbacks and some odds and ends which usually came handy. Nathaniel woke up to give her a hug ‘goodbye’, then crawled back into bed. By the time she walked out of the hotel, a sleepy Keiichi was parked out front and waiting for her.

“ _Good morning_ ,” she greeted him in Japanese.

“ _Good morning_ ,” he mumbled back, appearing half awake yet polite as ever.

It was a quiet ride to the airport; Natalie spent the time going over the information sent to her burner phone from one of Stuart’s people about her contacts in Columbia. She’d been hesitant about the man when he’d first appeared, intent on overtaking Nathan’s organization and establishing a relationship with Nathaniel, but she had to admit that as of yet, he’d proven himself to be reliable and serious about looking after her brother.

When Keiichi pulled up to the airport, she slipped on a pair of glasses and focused on being ‘Renee’, a sweet young woman with no intent to hurt anyone, and passed through security with no one the wiser. She purchased a cup of tea and a small breakfast sandwich to eat while she waited at the gate for her plane to arrive, then took her seat once able to board.

No one paid any attention to her or mentioned once that she looked like Natalie Shields, the starting goalie for the Ravens. She was left alone and managed to catch a little more sleep on the way to South Carolina.

When she stepped out of the Columbia Metropolitan Airport (with another tea and a blueberry scone in hand, it was going to be a long day so she allowed herself the indulgence), there was the black Mercedes sedan waiting where she’d been told it would be, per Davis. She nodded to the young man standing next to it, his dark hair trimmed short and tanned arms covered in religious tattoos, who gave her an appraising look before he opened the back door.

“No luggage?”

“No, just this.” She tugged on the strap of her backpack as she slid into the back seat of the car.

He nodded as he closed the door, then went around to the driver’s side. Once he was settled behind the wheel and started the engine, he flashed her a bright smile over his shoulder. “I’m Mat – Mateo, but everyone calls me Mat.”

“Lee,” she told him with a polite nod.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about you, you’re one of the Terror Twins!” He chuckled a couple times and then grimaced. “Ah, maybe you don’t like that nickname?”

“It’s not too bad,” Natalie admitted as she pulled out her phone so she could let Nathaniel know she’d arrived in Columbia; it had started out a bit mocking, the nickname, a jab at her and Nathaniel’s ages, but no one was laughing when they said it now.

Natalie and Nathaniel were too good at what they did to be mocked.

“True.” Mat nodded as he pulled out into traffic. “What do you need from me?”

“Tell me about Dan Heller and his crew.”

Mat groaned for a moment then complied – interrupted now and then by his swearing in Spanish at various drivers on the highway. Natalie was painted a picture of a ‘gang’ of young men who enjoyed getting drunk and high then causing trouble, and who were willing to do various ‘odd’ jobs to pay for their fun.

“What’s this ‘cracker dust’?” She hadn’t heard of it before.

“Eh?” Mat finished waving his middle finger at an old, rusted Ford truck he’d just passed to glance at her through the rear-view mirror. “It’s sorta like Ecstasy in that it gives you a nice high, but it doesn’t show up on a drug test. Guess they call it that because one of the more popular places where you can get it is a local diner and you let ‘em know how much you want by handing over cracker packets.”

Hmm, she thought it was called glitter dust in the city and sprinkles in Charleston. “Do you know where they get it?” If it was from the restaurant, that would complicate things.

“Yeah, usually Chrissy sells it to them, they’ve been banned from Sweeties after they caused some shit.”

“Do you know this Chrissy?”

Mat’s easygoing smile slipped as he glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. “Yeah. What do you need?”

Natalie thought about the best way to go about ensuring that a group of young men with a reputation of using their fists to deal with problems were removed from the board, then let him know. “I need Chrissy to sell them doctored packets of this cracker dust, and then for there to be someone on hand to ensure that if they get on the road, that they don’t make it far. Can you arrange that?”

“Huh.” Mat gazed at the road ahead (and didn’t swear at a taxi that cut him off) and tapped his tattooed fingers against the steering wheel for a few seconds. “Chrissy will gladly do it for the money and she knows to keep her mouth shut. As for a wrecker, that would be Seb. We’ve used him before to take care of things, and I can get him here in a few hours.” He glanced back at Natalie again. “This is gonna cost, though.”

She smiled at him. “I can cover it.” The Moriyamas would, to be exact.

“That I like to hear!” Mat laughed and brought up stopping for something to eat, which turned out to be a local Mexican place where they got breakfast burritos and coffee to go. Then he took her to a garage on the outskirts of town, supposedly an auto repair business but what was really a chop shop.

She ate a delicious egg and chorizo burrito while Mat made the necessary calls, and watched as a Ferrari and a Lamborghini were slightly modified and repainted. Assignments like this one were often a mixture of rush then wait; she needed to get on site to make sure everything was set up properly, then wait until things actually happened.

It was a good thing she’d brought a book to read.

Chrissy showed up in the afternoon; Natalie let Mat handle her, to give her the money and the special bath salts to mix in with the cracker dust. Seb appeared a couple hours later, right after one of the mechanics had brought back dinner, an older Hispanic man with grey-shot black hair and laugh lines on his face.

“You’re the one who needs a wrecker?” he asked as he sat down at the table with Natalie and Mat.

“Yes, and please, help yourself.” Natalie motioned to all the containers of food.

“Hmm, polite for a killer.” Seb watched her as if waiting for a reaction.

“Rather articulate for a wrecker,” Natalie responded with a smile.

Seb laughed and sat down while Mat shook his head and muttered something in Spanish. “Ha! I’m not stupid, I reinforced my baby real good with steel. I slam into them,” he smashed his right fish into his left palm, “and nothing, I barely feel a thing. They’re the one needing a doctor or worse, not me.”

“Good. I’ll need you to set up near someone’s house, ready to take him out as he heads to the club.”

Mat dumped some of the chicken mole enchiladas on the empty plate in front of Seb. “Al’s watching the house right now, but we should have some time before you need to get there.”

Seb grunted in agreement and grabbed more food; Natalie spent the next couple hours learning about cars as Seb and the mechanics ate and told her stories about their work. It was an enjoyable way to pass the time.

She spared them talking about her job.

Eventually, she, Seb, and Mat left the garage to go stake out Heller’s house; the gang had been there for about an hour at that point. She suspected that they’d head to Eden’s Twilight closer to closing time, when it wouldn’t be too crowded (less chance of anyone interfering), then target Minyard’s family and him.

Classic Riko – you don’t give me what I want, then I take away what matters to you.

Some people never grow up.

It was after midnight when Heller and his friends left the small house, the battered Camaro they drove blasting music as it wove its way along the back country road. Natalie was grateful that it was late at night since they’d cause an accident at some point, but as they neared a crossroad, Seb’s reinforced Chevy truck roared to life and pulled out from the side of the road, right into the Camaro’s path.

Natalie had to admit, the truck barely appeared to be dented at all while the Camaro all but crumpled. Seb continued to drive on to the garage, where his truck would to be hauled back to his home, while Natalie and Mat made sure that no one followed him once it was clear that the Camaro was going nowhere.

Once Seb’s truck was loaded onto the flatbed truck and the man paid, Mat drove Natalie to Minyard’s house, which she found disappointingly easy to break into. She searched through it to ensure that Riko hadn’t left any surprises, then settled in what she assumed was Andrew’s room, mindful to check her phone for any messages from Nathaniel or the person Mat had stationed at Eden’s Twilight to watch the club for any trouble.

When Val texted that Minyard and his family had safely left the club, Natalie prepared for their arrival. It took another twenty minutes, but eventually the house was filled with drunken laughter and loud footsteps. She sat on the twin bed facing the door, the borrowed knife from Mat tucked up her sleeve and without the wig, and waited for Minyard.

It was another five minutes or so, but he eventually came through the door, dressed in all black, dark circles beneath his eyes, reeking of beer and cigarette smoke. He stepped inside, flicked on the light and closed the door… then went still when he realized he wasn’t alone.

Good reflexes, but not as good as hers, as she was already on her feet with the knife pressed against his throat while he tried to reach for one tucked into the back of his jeans. “Ah, this is a friendly visit so let’s behave now, all right?” she stated in a quiet voice. “No need to excite the others.”

He glared up at her. “You say that with a knife at my throat.”

“Only to keep you from yelling and pulling your own.” She stepped away but held the knife at ready. “Now, can we talk? That’s all I came here to do.” When he attempted to rush at her again, she managed to slip out of the way then behind him to put him in a chokehold. “Must we do this all night? I promise not to hurt you or your family if you’ll stop this.”

He was strong, she’d give him that, and tried to break free for a moment but she was used to dealing with people stronger than her; after a few seconds he grunted in assent. “You’ll leave Aaron and Nicky alone?”

“I promise,” she repeated, and when he finally relaxed let him go. “I’m here to talk, only talk.”

He stepped out of reach and kept his knife out as well. “In the middle of the night in my room, uninvited.” He gazed at her for a few seconds. “You’re Natalie Shields of the Ravens. Don’t tell me this is another recruiting attempt.”

“Not quite.” She leaned against the wall near the door, her attention focused on him since it sounded as if his brother and cousin were asleep (and she didn’t trust him not to try another attack). “Though it is related to the visit Riko paid you.”

Minyard cocked his head to the side as he tapped the knife against his knuckles. “How so?”

It was a bit of a gamble, telling him this much, but everything indicated that Minyard could keep a secret and was very protective of his family; Natalie and Nathaniel couldn’t watch over him past this one time, though Ichirou should ensure that Riko was kept in check in order to protect the main branch. “Because someone didn’t take you turning him down very well and decided to teach you a lesson by sending several people to beat up you, your brother and cousin, whoever they could get their hands on tonight.”

Minyard stiffened with a stillness that Natalie knew from experience usually preceded violence. “Who? Where are they?” he asked, his deep voice gruff with a barely restrained anger, judging from how tightly he clenched the knife.

“Last update I received, half in the hospital and half the morgue,” she told him. “Though that may change before morning, considering their injuries.” She gave him a thin sliver of a smile, the one she’d learned from Mary that made people gaze at her with caution. “I didn’t come here merely to talk.”

“You took care of them,” Minyard said after a few seconds, to which she merely continued to smile. “You, a goalie for a university Exy team, took care of a bunch of assholes sent to hurt my family by another university Exy player. What am I missing here?”

“Nothing,” she told him as she pushed away from the wall. “Unless you want to tell me about your mother’s death? About her dying in that car accident and you surviving?” she countered with the same slim smile.

She’d staged a couple car ‘accidents’ herself to recognize someone else’s work.

As expected, Minyard stopped asking unwanted questions and picked up on her unspoken ‘I won’t tell if you won’t tell’. “What now?” he asked, his tone one of distrust.

“Now you keep an eye on your family and yourself,” Natalie explained as she picked up her backpack, which had been left by the door. “It should be all right, but it’s best to be careful.”

Minyard regarded her for several seconds as if trying to figure out if things were really that simple then huffed as he sat down on his bed. “Next time, send your brother to talk to me.”

Natalie stiffened at the remark, as she remembered Riko’s intent to use her brother as a ‘recruiting bonus’. “I don’t take requests, and Nathaniel’s out of reach of someone like _you_. Forget about him.” She met Minyard’s blank stare with a cold one of her own before she turned around and left.

Mat gave her a wary look when she dropped into the backseat of the sedan. “Everything all right? Do we need a clean-up here?”

She huffed a little at that and shook her head. “Would defeat the purpose of everything, wouldn’t it?”

“Just checking.”

“It’s fine.” She let out a slow breath as she readjusted her wig. “No, everything’s taken care of, so just drive me to the hotel, please.” She’d be able to get some sleep at last, then fly back to New York City in the morning to give Ichirou a proper update before returning to Evermore.

Another week of Exy and classes would be a break after this past weekend.

She sent a message to Nathaniel that it was done and she’d see him tomorrow, and smiled when he sent one back saying that he knew she wouldn’t leave him stuck with the stupid mutton-head.

Despite her exhaustion, she felt at peace.

*******

Andrew stared at the screen in front of him – at the _image_ on the screen in front of him. At one Nathaniel Wesninski smiling up at Jean Moreau as he hooked his arms over the racquet draped across his narrow shoulders, his dark red hair tipped with black dye damp from sweat and handsome face flushed from exertion. The picture had thousands of likes, and almost everyone commented on how they couldn’t wait until the next season, when Nathaniel would officially be part of the Ravens.

Andrew remembered those pale blue eyes focused on him, the intensity of their gaze as Nathaniel warned him about joining the Ravens. Warned him away from a team led by someone whose presence had immediately set off alarms in Andrew’s head, someone who apparently didn’t take rejection very well.

He stared a few seconds longer at such an intriguing, pretty puzzle before he clicked his tongue and closed the browser, then turned his attention to his phone, which reminded him of the meeting scheduled in another hour.

Another ‘recruiting’ attempt. Yet unlike the others, this one wanted to not only meet with him, but Aaron and Nicky as well. From the research that Andrew had done on David Wymack, coach of the Palmetto State University Foxes, the man tended to recruit troubled players to give them a ‘second chance’, which was why the Foxes were the worst team in their division.

A far cry from the Ravens… but still a Class I division team, and for some reason the coach wanted to speak to all three of them.

Andrew forced himself to ignore his computer and read a book instead, until it was time to leave for the Subway where they’d agreed to meet with Wymack, Aaron grumbling about it being a waste of time since Andrew would just turn the man down as always and Nicky being his usual cheerful, idiotic self.

They’d just ordered their food when Wymack showed up, dressed in an orange and white windbreaker with a folder tucked beneath his left arm. Andrew noted the solid build, the strands of grey in his black hair, the slight limp when he walked, then otherwise ignored the man as he dropped off the tray containing his white bread, lettuce and jalapeño sandwich and bag of chips on an empty table then went to fill his cup with soda. While he did that, he noticed that Wymack sat down at the table.

He eyed the man up and down when he returned to the table. “I didn’t order a side of old man.”

“Amusing.” Wymack grimaced as he eyed Andrew’s sandwich then picked up the bag of chips to open it. “You know why I’m here, so why don’t you sit down, you and the other two.”

“No, I don’t know why you’re here,” Andrew insisted as he sat down then plucked his chips from the man’s fingers, only to dump the bag onto the tabletop while he stared directly at the university coach. While Wymack gazed back at him, he slammed his hand onto the chips and ground them onto the table, then dropped the bag to the floor before he wiped his hand clean on the folder which had been set near Wymack’s left elbow.

To give him credit, Wymack’s expression didn’t change as he picked the bag from the floor to toss onto Andrew’s tray then brushed the crumbs from his folder; off to the side, Aaron and Nicky watched on, Aaron’s expression blank and Nicky’s curious as if interested to see how Wymack would react to Andrew’s purposely antagonistic behavior.

“You know why I’m here, you’re Andrew Wymack, the top-ranked goalie in southeastern high school Exy,” Wymack said, and then went on to bore him by reciting his statistics from memory while Andrew slumped down in his seat and ate half his sandwich piece by piece.

“I know all that,” Andrew said when the pain in the ass finally shut up. “You’re not telling me what I want to know.”

"I'm your new coach."

"Felder is quitting?" Andrew asked as he broke apart the second half of the sandwich. "Alas, how sad, I’ll be sure to have a toast in… well, I’ll have a drink to that. Appreciate the update, now leave."

Someone didn’t take the hint and remained seated. “I wasn’t finished, would you shut up and let me continue?”

"Hey, man." Nicky, well aware of how Andrew handled ‘constructive criticism’, stepped forward with his hands held out. "We don't want any trouble, yeah, so maybe you should just go?"

"Isn't that a first for you?" Wymack asked as he looked over first Nicky then a sullen Aaron. "From what I've heard, you three attract trouble like you need it to breathe."

Nicky’s nervous smile faded as he folded his arms over his chest, his posture suddenly defensive. “What’s it to you?”

"Because he’s my new coach,” Andrew drawled as he debated getting a new bag of chips. “Taking over for Felder.”

"I said no such thing," Wymack argued, showing annoyance at last. "Is Aaron coming or what? I'd like to get this conversation started at some point today."

Obviously, the man was blind as well as an idiot.

Andrew debated jerking the man’s chain a bit longer before he decided that they might as well get this mess over with and nodded to brother. Aaron scowled at the ‘command’, but joined them at the table, sitting next to Andrew while Nicky went to fetch his tray then sat next to Wymack.

Wymack’s disgruntled expression smoothed out now that the four of them were together, and attempted to brush aside the potato chip crumbs so he could open the folder. Aaron clicked his tongue and swiped the pile onto the floor, which made the older man sigh.

"Glad to see good manners run in the family.”

"Go fuck yourself," Aaron told the man without any real venom. "What do you want?"

"Like I said to Andrew here, I'm your new coach," Wymack said while he rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. "The three of you are playing for Palmetto State University this fall."

Maybe his problem was early onset dementia.

"Right," Nicky said automatically as he fiddled with his sandwich, then it seemed the words caught up to him a few seconds later, " _what_?"

Andrew had to admit that he was actually surprised for once; all the times he’d received offers, no one had extended it to Aaron and Nicky. “You’re here to recruit the _three_ of us to the Palmetto State Foxes, the last-ranked Class I school, yes?”

Wymack continued to flip through the papers in his folder as if he’d been expecting the question. "That's right, I need a new defensive line and last I heard you're still unclaimed."

"The _three_ of us," Nicky repeated, his sandwich ignored as he gaped at the man. "I think you pulled the wrong files, because I graduated a couple years ago."

"I already checked," Wymack said as he waved aside Nicky’s concern. "You haven't aged out and you're not enrolled anywhere else yet. You're eligible for a little while longer."

"But I'm not—I mean, I'm just here in passing. I was planning on heading back to Germany this fall after the midget mites—uh, well—" Nicky made a flailing gesture at Andrew and Aaron, who didn’t appreciate his description of them. "I've got a life there I kind of want to get back to."

"No one's keeping you here," Aaron muttered as he flicked a piece of paper at their cousin.

"I am." Wymack picked up three contracts and spread them out on the table. Andrew stopped tearing bread apart when he noticed that his brother’s and cousin’s names were indeed on the other two, and how Nicky’s gaze landed on the one written for him. "Put Europe on pause; it'll still be there in five years. A free education and a chance to play with a Class I team isn't something you want to pass up."

It wasn’t a surprise that Aaron was unimpressed by the offer, ready as always to bite the hand trying to lift him out of the dirt. "Are we supposed to be flattered that you're inviting us to play with your trainwreck nobodies?"

"Harsh," Nicky murmured as he finally looked away from his contract.

"It's true," Aaron argued as he sat back in the booth, his expression sullen. "He's only bothering with us because we fit his loser profile."

Wymack didn’t appear upset by the insult to his team, even if Andrew thought it was rather true. "Make the smart decision here. I'm offering you a full ride—everything from school supplies to meal plans and court gear. All you have to do is keep your grades up and play for my team. Give me one good reason why you'd turn me down."

Andrew gazed at Aaron, at the hurt pride barely masked by offended anger, and clicked his tongue. "Is it true that you only want us because we're losers?" Yes, his stats were good, but he also was branded a poor team player, as the kid with a criminal record that no one wanted, and he refused to let Aaron and Nicky be tagged as losers as well.

"If you were losers I wouldn't be here," Wymack said as he stared right at Andrew. "Yes, I have recruiting standards, but your doppelganger here completely misunderstands them." Andrew’s eyes narrowed upon hearing that, but the man continued on. "I look for people who've been given up on—people who've given up on themselves. The Foxhole Court is a place to regroup, to catch your breath and find your feet again. It's a second chance."

Oh no, it was much worse than dementia, the man was the bleeding-heart type.

"It's a scam," Aaron said, stubborn as always. "I don't know what sick pleasure you get out of watching people mock your reject team, but—"

"How curious." Andrew cut his twin’s rant short, not in the mood to hear it, and propped his elbow on the table to rest his face in his hand; there was potential here, _if_ the man was serious. "Maybe it’s a marketing scheme?” he mused aloud. “It must be fantastically successful if you've stuck with it this long. But Coach, be careful what you ask for, yes? You will bite off more than you can chew if you try to drag us into it."

Wymack continued to look him dead in the eye, the foolishly brave man. "Try me."

Hmm, perhaps the bleeding-heart type suffering from dementia?

"You’ve no clue what you’re taking on. You ready to inflict us upon your precious losers?"

"My team started paying attention to you when you spat on the Ravens," Wymack said, his demeanor unconcerned. "They know your reputation and the rumors about your past. I told them I intended to sign you, and for the first time ever I let them vote on it. It was unanimous. It had to be if we were going to win the school board over."

That was… unexpected, people actually willing to take him on. "How many?" Andrew asked.

"Nine are staying on next year.”

"Hear that, Nicky?” Andrew flicked a piece of bread at his cousin, who whined about being abused, as usual. “Nine people said we're not going to be a problem."

Wymack corrected Andrew with a shake of his head. "Nine people said you could be a serious problem but one they were willing to live with. You three are the answer to an impossible problem. We need a cohesive defensive line to rebuild our team around."

Ah, now the flattery came out. Too bad Andrew didn’t give a damn.

"And you came to _us_ ," Aaron said, his expression incredulous.

For the first time since entering the restaurant, Wymack appeared confused. "Yes," the man said. "Your personal dramas are above my paygrade. I only care about how you are on the court and I like what I see. I made my decision and I'll stand by it. Make yours, but do it fast. I won't wait forever, especially when I need to have the fall lineup signed soon."

Andrew waved the man aside, and ignored the way that Aaron pointed toward the door when Wymack went to say something else.

The man finally got the hint that they were done with him and stood up as soon as Nicky got out of the booth. "My office number is inside, you've got one week to make a decision." He tapped the folder with their contracts then finally left.

Andrew noticed two figures get up from a nearby booth as Wymack walked away, two figures who wore orange and white, who looked a lot like Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd of the Foxes (he may have done a bit of research before the night’s meeting). They exchanged words with the old man then came over to the table, an indignant expression on Wild’s face.

"Call us losers again," the Foxes’ captain insisted as she stared down Aaron, her arms folded over her chest, while Boyd hovered behind her.

"You are losers," Aaron said, unconcerned about her calling him out on the insult (and aware of Andrew there to back him up in case of a fight). "Your record speaks for itself,” he sneered as he opened his bag of chips.

"So, you're stupid and an asshole," Wilds countered, and put a finger in his face before he could retort – at least until Andrew leaned forward. "Losers aren't people with weak statistics. Losers are people who won't try, who look at insurmountable odds and give up prematurely. My Foxes aren't losers. We put it all out there day after day because we believe there's got to be something better than this. It's not about getting there quickly; it's about sticking with this no matter how long the fight.”

How boring, someone was the righteous type.

"We're fighters," she said with emphasis, and this time she looked at each of them. "We chose you because we thought you were, too. If you aren't, I'll rescind my vote. I don't have time to waste on people who are too scared to take risks."

"You must be on some fantastic drugs," Aaron muttered as he picked a chip out of the bag, seemingly bored with the lecture.

"It's worse, it’s called optimism," Nicky chipped in, appearing entertained by everything.

As for himself, Andrew was definitely bored and wanted to go home. “That’s a dirty word,” he reminded his cousin. “And isn’t it exhausting, always thinking things will work out?” he asked Wilds.

She glared at him, obviously not impressed with his ‘concern’. "It's far more exhausting to think things will stay the same," the righteous captain said. "I've been there; I've done that. I've woken up and faced every day feeling like there was never going to be anything else. I'm over that and I'm never going back. Now it's your turn. Come with us."

"Hmm, but we’re eating,” Andrew reminded the rude people who’d interrupted their meal; he gestured to the food scattered on the table. “Goodbye.” It wasn’t a hint.

The righteous captain didn’t appear pleased, but at least she knew when to back down. She sniffed as if annoyed, but hooked her right arm through Boyd’s left then turned around to leave, with Wymack following after a moment. Andrew watched them walk out the door, determined to see the man (and his loser players) leave that time.

It was quiet at the table for a minute, until Nicky cleared his throat. “So about-“

“ _Not in English_ ,” Andrew said in German before he sipped his now lukewarm soda.

Nicky grimaced but did as he’d been told. “ _The contracts_ ,” he continued as he tapped the fingers of his left hand against the grease-stained folder. “ _They look legit, Wymack sounded legit, what do you think_?”

Aaron sneered as he crumpled his empty chip bag. “ _That he’s desperate as hell to recruit us, and we’d be idiots to play on such a pathetic team_.”

Nicky frowned as he tapped the folder again. “ _Yeah, but what else are you going to do_?” he asked Aaron. “ _I don’t see anyone else stepping up to offer you a scholarship, and you need some sort of degree if you want to practice medicine unless you’re just gonna change diapers at the local nursing home_.”

The jab hit home, as Nicky had intended. “ _Fuck you_ ,” Aaron spat as he folded his arms over his chest. “ _Why do you care when you’ll be leaving soon for Germany and your fag boyfriend?_ ”

“ _What did I tell you about saying that word?_ ” Andrew reminded his brother as he set his cup down, his gaze intent on Aaron, who looked away first.

“ _Whatever, he’s gonna leave so what does it matter?_ ”

“ _It matters because… I’ll have a better chance of finding a good job if I have a degree. I can try to get into a university in Germany with my grades, but if PSU will accept me then that’s one less thing to worry about_ ,” Nicky explained. “ _I’d think that you’d jump at the chance, too_ ,” he said to Aaron.

Aaron ducked his head and stared at his hands instead of answering the question, then looked back at Andrew. “ _What about you? You said you didn’t give a damn about going to university or playing Exy. There’s no way they’re going to take us two and not you_.”

That was true, for the most part; after learning his lesson with Cass, Andrew didn’t really give a damn about what happened to him or for his future. At the moment, his life revolved around Aaron and keeping his brother safe, around the deal they’d made, with Nicky on the periphery.

Nicky was right in that Aaron wanted to be a doctor, and had thought his chances of that career ruined by his abysmal grades during his first two years in high school – the years when Tilda had still been alive. Those grades had improved once Andrew got him clean, but the damage had been done.

Now he had the chance to go to school after all, but it was dependent on Andrew agreeing to play a game he’d only suffered to avoid extra therapy back in juvie and then to keep an eye on his twin while in high school. He’d been looking forward to leaving the game behind once he graduated.

Now Wymack wanted him to sign up for five more years of it, not just for his sake but that of his family’s as well.

“ _Let’s go_ ,” he said as he motioned for Aaron to get out of the booth.

“ _But you didn’t answer_!”

“ _We’ve a week to figure this out_ ,” he reminded his brother, who shut up for once and scurried to stand.

The truth of the matter was, he’d already decided, he just didn’t want to talk about it until Nicky and Aaron had made up their minds. Over the next couple days, Nicky talked way too much to Erik about the ‘pros and cons’ of him accepting the scholarship while Aaron ranted about how bad the Foxes were and checked out PSU’s biology program online.

Andrew spent as much time up in his room as possible, and felt disgusted with himself each time he did a new search on ‘Nathaniel Wesninski’.

In the end, it was exactly as he’d expected; Nicky and Aaron wanted to accept the scholarships so they could earn their degrees. Andrew agreed to sign as well, but there were conditions: they would room together, they would stick together until graduation, and Aaron would continue to honor the agreement between him and graduation.

Nicky appeared disappointed with the ‘stick together’ rule, but otherwise was happy that he wouldn’t be alone on the campus. Aaron was fine with not having to socialize with the Foxes, but threw a fit over how he couldn’t go off and date any tramp he wanted just yet while Andrew remained single.

Andrew didn’t care, because if he was going to suffer five more years of Exy and annoying teammates, at least his family would be safe. They’d be under his careful watch, where he could protect them from their own destructive impulses as well as dangers like Riko Moriyama (even if he still didn’t quite understand _why_ Riko Moriyama was a danger).

(And if perhaps he ran into Nathaniel Wesninski from time to time? Well… he supposed that he wouldn’t complain too much.)

(Not so ‘out of reach’ after all, huh.)

After waking up from one of the usual nightmares early Saturday morning, the feel of hands on his body lingering along with a clammy sweat, he got out of bed, went into the bathroom to wash off and take a piss, then dressed and left the house. It didn’t take long to drive to Wymack’s apartment; he’d found the address online the other day.

One had to adore Google.

One also had to adore how Wymack lived alone on the top floor, which meant no busybodies interrupting Andrew while he picked the lock on the man’s front door. He quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, and clicked his tongue at the loud snores coming from the back bedroom. Assured that Wymack was asleep, he investigated the office, living room and kitchen (all three a mess, did the man have to be such a stereotypical bachelor?), and was pleased when he found an unopened bottle of Chivas. It took another minute to find a clean glass to drink from; he set both on the kitchen table, slid a half-full ashtray closer and pulled out his cigarettes to light one.

Around twenty minutes and another cigarette later, there was a beeping sound from the bedroom; Andrew continued to smoke and sip the scotch while Wymack groaned awake, then stumbled into the bathroom for a few minutes, stomped back into the bedroom, then finally wandered into the front half of the apartment. He blinked a little when the light was turned on, but remained seated while Wymack gawked at him.

It took a minute or two for the old man’s brain to catch up, and to give him credit, all he did was sigh, rub at his eyes, then stomp his way over to the cabinets, where he pulled out things to brew coffee. When Andrew remained quiet during all that, Wymack grunted as he turned around to lean against the counter, his tattooed arms folded across his chest. “Good fucking morning to you. There a reason you let yourself in to my home at four in the morning?”

Andrew shrugged as he stubbed his cigarette out. "You said you wanted to hear from us, so I didn't think you’d mind."

"That depends, did you break anything?"

"Not yet," Andrew admitted. "I didn't see anything of value."

"Except the seal on my Chivas." Wymack gave a dirty look to the half empty fifth of scotch.

Andrew shrugged again. “If you’re so attached to it, it’s in the trash.”

“Huh, so you do know how to use the trash can.”

“I learn something new every day,” Andrew drawled as he leaned back in the chair.

Wymack closed his eyes for a moment as if praying then opened them before he filled a large mug with coffee and sat opposite Andrew. "I don't remember giving you my address." When Andrew merely gazed back for several seconds, he sighed again and blew onto his coffee to cool it. "You could have just called my office during normal business hours. It would have been easier."

"How boring. This is more interesting, don't you think?" Andrew gestured between them. “And interesting things tend to keep my attention longer.”

Wymack seemed to think about that and what Andrew left unsaid. “So what does it take to interest you?”

Andrew leaned forward with his forearms on the table. "They're saying this is the end of your Foxes. One more season and you're out.” He’d done more than google the man’s address before coming here. “They'll spend the next twenty years trying to scrub your failure from the rafters and fifty years overcoming your reputation." Some people were quite vocal about the Foxes’ failures on the Exy chat boards.

The old man didn’t appear to take the jab personally, just sat there and sipped his disgusting coffee. “What does it take to get your interest?” he repeated.

Perhaps Andrew could work with the old bastard after all. “You’re after us, after _me_ for a reason, and that’s to save your pathetic team. Nicky’s all in while Aaron’s not thrilled with the idea of being a loser Fox, and neither will join if I don’t. As for me? I don’t give a damn about Exy, so what do you have to offer?”

"You haven't met my Foxes yet, other than Dan and Matt," Wymack said without hesitation. "They're _interesting_."

"Not a word the press has ever used on them."

"Don't believe everything the press has to say, I thought you’d know that by now.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at that and had another sip of Chivas. “You need to do better than that.” He didn’t care about teammates.

“Do I?” Wymack asked as he waved around him. “You’re here, which makes me think you’re _interested_ after all. What can I give you, other than a full ride for you and your family? A chance to play with people who are like you, who’ve been beaten down but refuse to give up.” When Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust at the pathetic offer, Wymack shook his head. “Despite your stats, no one had much of an interest in recruiting you until the Ravens tried to, and even then you only got about a third of the offers as I would expect – you’re the best goalie in the district, but you’ve a criminal record and a history of violence. Most teams have written you off as trouble, as a liability.”

“Yet you’re not afraid of me.” Andrew stared at the man and sensed no fear from him, even after breaking into his home. “Why not?”

Wymack scoffed as he got up to pour himself another cup of bland coffee. “More afraid of the damage you’ll do to my liquor cabinet.” When he sat back down, he sighed and shook his head. “They say you're dangerous. I've heard the rumors, but I don't care how many of them are true. I can't change the past; none of us can. All that matters is what we are now and where we go from here. I am not afraid of you. I never will be."

The man definitely was a bleeding-heart with a bit of dementia mixed in. "Then what are you afraid of?" Andrew asked as he lit another cigarette.

"I'm not particularly fond of cockroaches."

The man might, just might, be growing on him. “That still doesn’t explain what’s in it for me.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Wymack groaned as he rubbed his face. “You get to prove them wrong, all the ones who say you’re this fucked up, unstable kid, and… you get to see if I’m right in that this team can be great.”

Andrew didn’t give a shit in regards to how people thought about him… except he kept thinking about the disdainful way Natalie Shields had told him that her brother was out of reach of someone like _him_ , to forget about Nathaniel, while she’d been there to save his family – to do his job. Anger flickered through Andrew for a moment, made him stub out the cigarette just to destroy something.

He took in a deep breath before he nodded. “That _might_ be interesting enough, to see how your reject losers do. If they don’t end up knocked down to Class II then you’ll owe me a favor.”

Wymack scowled at him for the ‘reject losers’ comment before he blinked in surprise. “Wait, that means you’ll sign?”

Andrew held up his right hand. “There are conditions. The three of us will room together while on campus.” Wymack quickly nodded in agreement. “Also, you’re paid to be our coach for Exy, nothing more. Our involvement with each other begins and ends on the court.”

“It’s a bit more than that, but fine, only paid for things that involve Exy,” Wymack agreed.

“Only that,” Andrew stressed as he replaced the cap on the bottle of scotch then stood up, considering the conversation finished. "The contracts are on your desk. Nicky's number should be in there somewhere. Call him if you want to argue about the details,” he said as he headed for the front door.

Wymack appeared surprised that he was leaving already but got out of his way and mumbled something about following up with Nicky; all Andrew cared about was grabbing some donuts on the way home.

It appeared that he was now a Fox for the next five years; he wondered how Riko and Natalie would take the news.

(He wondered how Nathaniel would react to the news, and told himself to stop being so stupid.)

*******

“Lee, you can be honest with me, what does Thea mean when she texts me ‘good game last night’?” Kevin asked Natalie as the two of them, Nathaniel, Jean and Susan stood off to the side while Riko screamed at the latest batch of rookies (which Nathaniel was technically part of, except he’d been at the Nest for seven years already and had long ago learned all the drills).

Natalie sighed, the sound slight, as she gave Kevin a pitying look. “It means just what it says, Thea’s not one to double-talk.”

“ _How many times does she have to tell him that_?” Susan murmured to Nathaniel in Russian.

“ _It better not be many more, because she’s about to lose her temper_.” Nathaniel fought not to rub the healing bruise on his left side and glared at Jean when his partner gave a gentle tap to the back of his head as a non-verbal ‘no’.

“ _Oh, it’s always a frightening thing when she does_.” Susan gave her latest partner a thoughtful glance as if to judge how close to the edge Kevin was pushing Natalie with his endless questions about Thea.

They were supposed to be on a ‘break’ since Thea had graduated, not that they had any formal type of relationship in the first place; Nathaniel was even more convinced that he was lucky to not be interested in anyone after seeing Kevin act like an idiot and Jean be upset when Miles decided that he was ‘bored’ and wanted to ‘move on’ (such a _shame_ that the striker had a string of bad luck since then). At least Natalie seemed all right with her on/off… whatever with Sara.

(Though Nathaniel suspected that part of it was that Kevin missed someone who’d been interested in _just_ him and not KevinandRiko, someone who saw him as more than the Ravens’ #2 striker.)

“Maybe you should step in to help Riko with the rookies,” he told his friend as he motioned at the asshole snake, who was in Lincoln’s face as he yelled at the backliner for messing up a drill.

“I guess so.” Kevin didn’t appear happy as he trudged over to join his partner; he was ignored at first, then Riko gestured for him to take over dealing with the freshmen while he stomped off to where his uncle was talking with the assistant coaches.

“ _Someone should remind him that fledglings need to try out their wings before they can fly_ ,” Susan murmured as she spun her huge goalie racquet between her hands.

“ _You wanna do it_?”

She was quick to shake her head. “ _I don’t have **that** much padding, I’d need to fetch some proper armor for such a feat._” She grinned at Nathaniel. “ _You’re quick on your feet, though, sure you’d be able to dash out of his reach before he can do any damage._ ”

“ _And if not, there’s always Lee_.” They shared a smile in agreement, at least until Natalie came over and lightly smacked him on the lower back. “Ow.”

“I might not understand more than a few words in Russian, but I recognize my name. What are you two dragging me into now?” she asked as she leaned against him, Jean quick to join them.

“Just that he needs to give the poor rookies a break,” Nathaniel murmured; there was no need to identify the ‘he’.

“Hmm.” Natalie glanced over at the freshmen, who were now being yelled at by a frustrated Kevin who was ‘correcting’ them on the drills; at least he wasn’t as vicious as Riko, just unable to understand how they couldn’t grasp such difficult exercises so easily. “We can try to run some interference, but in the end there’s not too much we can do. Focus on your own practice since you’re in the games now.” She gave him a quick hug before she and Susan went off to practice on their own.

Jean nudged their shoulders together – or his arm into Nathaniel’s shoulder, considering the vast difference in their heights. “ _You know it’s the truth, little crow_ ,” he told him in French. “ _You can’t take all of them under your wing_.” There was a sense of reverence to his words, as if he still couldn’t believe after all this time that Nathaniel and Natalie had done just that for him.

That he was safe from the growing abuse in the Nest, of the ‘games’ Riko and his favorites played against the others, all in the name of ‘improvement’. That while he might bear the brunt of Tetsuji’s cane now and then, he didn’t have to worry about Riko and the upperclassmen, about being shorted sleep or meals, of endless laps around the court, of all the other harassments that befell the Ravens who didn’t do well or earned Riko’s ire.

Part of it was that Jean simply was that good of a backliner, and part of it was that he fell under the main branch (that he was Nathaniel’s and Natalie’s to protect, and they’d lost too much to allow _anyone_ to harm him. **Anyone** ).

“ _I know_ ,” Nathaniel sighed. “ _It’s just difficult to watch_.” He huffed a moment later when Jean covered his eyes. “ _Okay, okay, I get it! Ew, your gloves stink_ ,” he complained as he batted his partner’s hand aside.

“ _Because I work while out on the court. Let’s see if you can say the same_ ,” Jean teased as he pulled Nathaniel towards where other Ravens were lined up for a scrimmage.

“ _Work? You? A Frenchman? For what, all of five minutes?_ ” Nathaniel taunted, and laughed when he was nearly shoved off his feet. “ _I’m surprised you don’t call for a break halfway through a quarter!_ ”

“ _Let’s see you play a game without asking for a cup of tea and a biscuit_ ,” Jean shot back, only to stop short when Tetsuji gave him a flat look, probably for speaking French out on court. However, their ‘Master’ merely motioned for the two of them to step forward as backliners for the home team.

It had been difficult the past year to watch Jean play with Thea as his partner, even though she was a really good backliner. For so long, Nathaniel was used to being by Jean’s side, on and off the court (unless working for Ichirou), so it was only natural that when he had a racquet in his hand, he would look to the left to see Jean, to know that one of the two people he trusted most in the world was there to watch his back. All in the world was right when Jean was beside him and Natalie in the goal behind him, when he could face all opponents on the court knowing that his family was there to support him. He didn’t care how big or strong they were, they would _not_ get through his defense.

It was like coming home, being on court with Jean and Natalie; Sara, Arnie and Toby might try to batter their way past him and Jean, but they were a united front to block them from the goal almost the entire scrimmage. There were a few times when Natalie called out a known code word to let them past, in which case they wore the offensive line down before they stepped aside, and she caught their throws with ease before firing the ball to Riko or Kevin.

The scrimmage ended: home team eight, away team zero. One would think that Riko would be pleased with the score, except that Kevin had managed as many goals as he had.

Nathaniel watched Riko stalk off court after casting Kevin a nasty look, an odd ache filling his chest for some reason, and nearly lashed out when someone touched his left arm; Jean caught it in time, thankfully. “What?”

Sean Lincoln and two other rookies (Mike Johnson, Lee Adams), stood there with adoring expressions. “You… that was amazing, what you did,” the freshman backliner told him. “The both of you.”

Nathaniel wasn’t used to this stuff. “Uhm, thanks.” Dammit, he could practically feel the amusement radiate from his bastard partner.

“How did you do it?”

“Lots of practice.” Lots and lots of practice, and lots of beatings when he messed up. Unfortunately, Lincoln and the others would find that out the hard way. “Learn the drills as quickly as you can,” he advised the freshmen. “They’ll really help you out,” he told them as he walked away (walked _quickly_ away).

“ _Running from your fan club, little crow?_ ”

Nathaniel gave his smirking partner a dirty look. “ _You’re such a bastard, and yes_.” He sighed as they stepped into the cool (cold) locker room. “ _What am I supposed to tell them? Learn fast or you’ll regret it? I’m good at this because I’ve no other choice? All I have to do is play Exy and kill people?_ ” When Jean’s smirk faded, he felt guilty. “ _Sorry, shouldn’t have said that_.” He felt like an asshole for some reason as he threw his sweaty jersey into the bottom of the locker (for some poor soul to collect and wash).

Jean took a deep breath before he spoke, his gaze focused inside his locker as he slowly removed his Exy uniform and gear. “ _You… have a point. We’ve been living this for so long that it’s difficult to remember what’s normal. To us, we play Exy because we have to, because we’re property_.”

“Jean-“

He turned to look at Nathaniel and shook his head. “ _No, it’s the truth. You and Natalie have given up so much for me that the least I can do is accept the truth and be of some worth to the Moriyamas, to make your sacrifice be of value_.” He gave Nathaniel a slight but true smile. “ _And… and despite everything, what we have here is good. I miss Sophie, but I have the two of you and my friends. I know you’ll keep me safe. But yes, we excel at Exy because we must, and I don’t think the others understand that for us, it’s more than a pro contract. It’s much more than that, yet because of the deals you’ve made, as long as we excel, we’re protected_.”

“ _Safe from Riko_ ,” Nathaniel translated as he hung up his shoulder pads.

“Yes.” Jean frowned as he glanced around the locker room, which was unusually quiet. “ _The freshmen will learn soon enough what it costs to be Ravens_.”

They’d learn soon enough that they had to give everything to Tetsuji and Riko, to allow those two to break them down to nothing then rebuild them into what _they_ believed were perfect Exy players if they wanted to succeed. It would be painful to watch, though not as painful as it would be for the rookies to go through, but hey, they’d get a pro contract in the end, right?

(If they survived.)

Nathaniel managed a somewhat successful smile for his partner. “ _What does that make us_?”

Jean gave him a haughty look as he tugged on a lock of hair falling onto Nathaniel’s nose. “ _A little crow with delusions of being a big bad wolf, and a supposed mutton-head who’s really very smart. Two survivors who are valuable to the main branch, and a glorious sunbird who’ll smack them for being idiots if they think they’re anything less_.”

Nathaniel laughed as he batted Jean’s hand aside, only to twine their fingers together. “ _Okay, I’ll give you that, only because that sunbird really will smack us_.” Natalie could be frightening like that.

Jean’s fingers tightened around his own before they let go. “ _Now shower, because **you** stink_.”

Things seemed… well, not entirely back to normal after that, but close. Nathaniel slowly adjusted to classes out on campus instead of online, aided by having Jean, Natalie or Susan by his side whenever he walked between classes or back and forth to the Nest. It helped that people finally seemed over the fact that his father was a convicted felon, having moved on to the latest scandal (and that the Feds hadn’t been able to convict him of a fraction of his real crimes). The Ravens were two games into a winning season and showed no signs of losing their crown as the Class I champions.

As of yet, the only real drama of the season had been the Palmetto State Foxes signing Andrew Minyard (along with his brother and cousin) after the young man had turned down the Ravens. The Exy community had been unable to grasp how the promising young goalie had rejected the best team in the Class I division in favor for the worst team, and Minyard certainly wasn’t providing an explanation.

It had been… a rough week in the Nest once the news broke, especially after Riko’s little revenge plan had failed (thanks to Natalie). Riko seemed to have it out for all things Foxes after that, while Nathaniel quietly cheered the team on.

Not that it helped much, since for some insane reason, Coach Wymack didn’t put Andrew Minyard in any games. Nathaniel could understand Tetsuji not allowing a rookie any game-time with the Ravens, considering that they had almost thirty players, but the Foxes only had twelve, and Reggie Duncan was such a fuck-up of a goalie that he should be removed from the court immediately. He didn’t understand why Wymack allowed the upperclassman to play and continued to bench someone of Minyard’s talent.

A lot of people went on to criticize the man’s decision to recruit Minyard’s brother and cousin, but Nathaniel knew from experience how a strong bond of trust could benefit players out on court; Natalie had started out rough at first, with only a little Exy experience behind her, but the bond she shared with Nathaniel (and then Jean) had helped her just as much as all the time spent out on court at Evermore. He could understand Wymack’s logic of recruiting Minyard’s brother and cousin even if their stats were only ‘decent’.

He just didn’t understand why Wymack didn’t have the three of them out on court together, especially when the Foxes continued to lose their games.

(He could admit that he wanted to see Minyard in the goal again.)

The Ravens were playing the Huskies again that Friday, which meant a lot of media attention. Nathaniel and Jean were fighting over Nathaniel eating the pile of mushy kale on his plate while Natalie and Susan watched on when Sara dropped her tray onto their table.

“Hello?” Susan said as she cocked her head in surprise.

“That bad of a day?” Natalie asked as she rubbed her hand along her sometime-girlfriend’s right arm.

“Sorry, but I just… I just can’t take it,” Sara mumbled while she glanced over at the table where her partner, Lydia, was smiling a bit too broadly at a smirking Riko and a nervous Kevin. “Mind if I crash with you tonight?” When Susan’s expression went blank, she shook her head. “Just to sleep, I promise.”

Natalie glanced at her partner, who nodded. “Okay. I take it they’re back on?”

“Her and half the team, it seems.” Sara blanched as she stabbed at her bowl of noodles. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right, but I don’t know how else to say it.” She glanced over at her partner and frowned; Lev and Mike B were now seated at the table. “It’s just… I tell her that she should tell the guys to fuck off, and she yells back that that I should worry about how I’m gonna make pros if I’m a big dyke.”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed at the ‘big dyke’ comment, a sign that made Nathaniel and Jean still and even Susan pause in eating her meal. “Just remind her that your stats are better than hers,” Natalie said in a too quiet voice.

“Yeah, that only makes her angrier.” Sara shuddered for a couple seconds then forced a smile on her lips. “The day I have to screw a bunch of assholes to make it to the pros is the day I give up playing Exy.”

Nathaniel managed a smile as well. “Well, guess that means you’re not an asshole, Lee.”

It was quiet at the table for a few seconds, until Susan broke out in laughter, Jean groaned and jabbed his chopsticks into Nathaniel’s left arm, Natalie flicked a wet noodle into his face and Sara stared at him in shock.

“What?” Nathaniel asked as he wiped the noodle aside.

“ _No_ comments about my sex life,” Natalie insisted as she threatened to throw another noodle at him.

“It was a compliment,” he muttered as he prepared to fling kale back at her (it was one way to get rid of it).

“Says the petit corbeau who doesn’t have one,” Jean pointed out, only to end up with green mush flung his way. “Bastard.”

“Can you _please_ change partners with me?” Sara asked Susan, who was trying to stifle her giggles and failing.

“No.”

“Dammit.”

Natalie put an end to the bickering at the table; everyone finished their meals so they could do homework before bed – especially Nathaniel and Natalie since they might end up in New York City for the weekend.

Nathaniel had started on his European history homework when there was a knock on the door, which turned out to be Kevin. “You guys busy?” he asked as he stepped inside.

“Just homework.” Nathaniel held up his textbook (the same one Jean had used last year).

Kevin’s green eyes grew bright with excitement. “I can help you study! There’s certain things Reiss always puts on her quizzes.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel shifted over on his bed to make room for his friend, while Jean gave Kevin an intent look; it was rare when Kevin was alone like this, not that Nathaniel and Jean would turn him away.

“Not hanging out with Riko tonight?”

Kevin’s shoulders tensed at the question and his expression grew guarded. “I’m just… I know Thea and I weren’t that serious about each other and she’s gone now, but I wasn’t in the mood tonight.”

Jean gave one of those elegant shrugs he was so good at and resumed looking up resources for his Civics essay. “Understandable, just unusual when the two of you aren’t together.” That Riko hadn’t made him stay to watch at least.

“Well, some things it’s odd to do together,” Kevin said as he wrinkled his nose. “He can have fun with Lydia by himself.”

“Okay, this is bringing up terrible flashbacks of the Russian porno so _that’s_ the end of this discussion, all right?” Nathaniel declared as he glared at his partner and friend. “How about that Prince Alfred, huh?”

That was all it took to distract Kevin from what his partner was currently doing, while Jean groaned and muttered “ _now you’ve done it_ ” in French as they both were subjected to a long-winded and passionate history lesson.

(It cheered Kevin up, tortured Jean and helped Nathaniel study, so it was a win all around.)

Practice leading up to Friday’s game was intense (more intense than previous seasons), as they’d been ever since Nathaniel had officially become a Raven; now that the Perfect Court was whole, Riko demanded perfection from the entire team. Mistakes weren’t tolerated (were even less tolerated than before), Tetsuji’s cane lashed out at least twice as much during practice until all the players sported bruises.

The Ravens never had trouble playing the Huskies before, even if they were one of the better teams in the northeastern division. Nathaniel looked forward to the game being more of a challenge than Binghamton’s and University of Rhode Island’s, even though he knew the Huskies players would target him because of his size and ‘rookie’ status.

As if he hadn’t been facing off against bigger and more experienced players since he’d arrived at Castle Evermore.

Friday was a blur of pep rallies, practice, photo shoots and press conferences; even though it was the third game of the season, the media still lapped up any opportunity to take pictures of or film the five of them together. Natalie and Jean were content to fade as much into the background as possible, while Nathaniel had to pose for the cameras and answer questions since this was his official ‘debut’.

“Some of the Huskies are pretty big, are you worried about facing them on the court?” a reporter for Exy Online asked.

“Nah, they have to catch me first,” Nathaniel said with a grin, which made several of the reporters laugh. “That and I can hide behind Jean, he’s big, too.”

“I’m not doing your work for you,” Jean grumbled as he mussed Nathaniel’s hair; dozens of flashes went off during that gesture.

As expected, Riko didn’t appreciate the attention being away from him for too long and pulled it back to him. “Nat, Jean and Lee are a great defensive team, but Kevin and I will do our best to make sure that they don’t have to do much during the game,” he said as he flashed the reporters a cocky grin.

“Of course,” one of the reporters from Exy World commented while the photographers snapped pictures of him and Kevin. “Your stats so far this season more than justify your addition to Court this past summer. The both of you are by far the best in the division and are basically tied in first place.”

Long familiar with Riko’s ‘quirks’, Nathaniel noticed how the asshole snake’s smile slipped for a moment upon hearing that he wasn’t the clear leader in the division. “Of course we’re the best,” he said while Kevin remained quiet beside him. “We’ll prove that yet again today.”

Nathaniel suspected that it better be a damn near flawless game that evening, and that he wouldn’t want to be the Raven who threw the ball to Kevin if Riko was open.

Then it was time to go out on court and warm up, which got him, Jean and Natalie away from Riko and Kevin, from the awful tension between the striker pair. It didn’t help that Kengo was up in the East Tower, something Riko had to be aware of since his uncle kept disappearing, and once again refused to have anything to do with him.

It would only get worse when Nathaniel and Natalie went up to see their lord after the game.

Riko lost the coin toss, which only worsened his mood, even though the Ravens quickly gained control of the ball. The Huskies did their best to use brute force to batter their way past Nathaniel and Jean (more Nathaniel) whenever they grabbed the ball, but he used his speed and agility to get away from them then trip them up, to use their momentum against them (he _did_ pay attention when Kevin rambled on during their physics study sessions). The entire time, Natalie waited patiently in the goal like a spider in her web, serene and unmoving, until either a Husky managed to get past Nathaniel and Jean or they decided to set things up so Natalie could gain control of the ball.

Tetsuji left them on court for the entire first quarter, then let them rest for the second one. The Huskies finally scored a point before the first half ended, while the Ravens were leading by nine points; one would think Riko would be pleased with that, but Kevin had scored four of those points.

“ _When’s he leaving for Baltimore again_?” Jean murmured as they watched Riko pace back and forth in the locker room while he yelled at various Ravens for their performance during the game.

“ _Not soon enough_.” Nathaniel was ready to box up the bastard and ship him off to his professional team to get rid of him for a few days, and wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the game.

Susan took over the goal in the second half, and between her, Leif, Mike B and Lev, managed to only let the Huskies score two more points in the third quarter. Despite Riko scoring three points and Kevin one, that seemed to be two points too many.

Which meant that when Nathaniel and Jean were back on court for the final quarter of the game, they were told to shut down the goal by a furious Riko. Nathaniel was half-tempted to ask ‘or else what?’, but was all too aware of the times when Jean was left in the Nest by himself and that Riko had poor impulse control. In other words, as much as he’d love to have a reason to slit the asshole snake’s throat, he wouldn’t allow it to happen at the expense of his partner (even if Jean was an arrogant French mutton-head).

Susan was a great goalie, but she wasn’t Natalie in that Nathaniel and Jean _knew_ her, had spent so long training with her that she was a part of them and could guess their moves almost before they made them. Still, the three of them were Ravens, had bled out on court (literally) to learn the same drills, spent hours and hours playing together, so they still synched well enough to keep the opposing team at bay while Sara and Karl scored a few more points.

The two strikers were doing well enough that Nathaniel didn’t understand why Tetsuji pulled them with several minutes on the clock so Riko and Kevin could finish the game, unless his spoiled nephew wanted more attention. All he did know was that he was tired and sore from dealing with Buheis and Smith, his two marks for the game, strikers who had about a foot on him and over fifty pounds each. As the crowd went wild upon seeing #1 and #2 step onto the court, Nathaniel caught the determined looks exchanged among the Huskies and knew they weren’t going down without a fight.

Wonderful.

Smith intensified his efforts to grind Nathaniel into the lacquered floor of the court, and while Jean did his best to help him, he was too busy fending off his own mark, Jacobi, most of the time. Nathaniel managed to knock the ball from Smith’s racquet as the striker pushed toward the goal, which Susan snatched up within seconds and flung toward the other end of court – at Lydia, who was open and waiting for it.

Unfortunately, Jacobi and Partridge closed in on her immediately, so she couldn’t go anywhere. There was no choice for her but to get rid of the ball, which she did – to Riko, who was on the opposite side of the court, and with such a badly aimed throw that it didn’t make it a third of the way to him.

The crowd was on their feet immediately, the sound of their boos ricocheting around the stadium over the fact that Lydia had passed up an open shot to Kevin to foul a throw to Riko, a mistake which had given the ball to the Huskies. A mistake that could be expected of a lower ranked Exy team, but _not_ the Ravens.

Nathaniel spared a moment of pity for his teammate before he prepared himself for the three Huskies barreling toward his team’s goal, aware of the wrath he and Jean would face if those players got past them.

“ _Courage, little crow_.”

Nathaniel grimaced as he braced himself for the oncoming onslaught; _of course_ Smith and Partridge were headed straight for him. “ _Body mass, you big mutton-head_.”

Who the hell did he have to bribe to be allowed to pull a knife while out on court?

He got the wind knocked out of him (and most likely a couple bruised ribs) when Partridge slammed into him, but he managed to stay on his feet long enough to hook his racquet into Smith’s and rattle the ball loose. That got him the butt of the prick’s racquet into his already abused ribs and a kick on his way to the floor (along with the loud blast of a whistle, so nice to know the refs were paying attention).

Jean scooped up the ball, unaffected by Jacobi’s attempt to knock him off balance, and flung it away; judging from the cheers, another Raven caught it, and a few seconds later the buzzer sounded as a goal was scored. All Nathaniel cared about was that game was paused to swap Leif in for him for the last couple minutes, and that Smith and Partridge were out with red cards.

Natalie was at his side as soon as Hirata pronounced that nothing was broken, her brow furrowed as she handed him a wrapped ice pack for his ribs. “How are you, really?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, then sighed (which he immediately regretted) when her eyes narrowed. “It’s nothing worse than when Riko and Lev pound on me during practice.”

“Still.” Natalie glanced over at the ‘away’ side of the court; Nathaniel had the sneaking suspicion that Smith and Partridge better hope to not run into his sister any time soon.

Make that any time _ever_ , because Natalie could hold grudges with the best of them when it came to things she took seriously, and his and Jean’s wellbeing was at the top of that list.

Fortunately, the game ended before she could figure out a way to have a stadium light fall onto the two Huskies’ heads or something similar (she was good at things like that, he put nothing past her when she was determined), with the score eighteen to three in the Ravens’ favor. Nathaniel had to go back onto the court for the ‘good game’ handshake, which he suffered through with his father’s smile on his face.

(He suspected that Jean might have cracked a finger bone or two while shaking hands, and that Natalie had palmed one of her smaller blades.)

Jean was determined to half-carry him back to their room once they were cleared to shower and change, but Nathaniel was expected up in the East Tower. “ _Can’t they let you go this one time_?” Jean asked while he hovered by Nathaniel while he showered.

“ _Not while I’m still standing_.” When Jean’s eyes narrowed in a speculative manner, Nathaniel backed away from his partner. “ _Try to knock me out and I’ll make you eat this bar of soap_.”

“ _It would have been for your own good_.”

“ _Right, and France is known for winning every war they fought_. _That white in your flag doesn’t stand for all the times you’ve surrendered at all_.”

The stupid mutton-head turned off Nathaniel’s hot water and claimed the cold would help his sore ribs.

Natalie took one look at them when they joined her outside the locker rooms and sighed. “You’re older than him,” she chided Jean as she combed her fingers through Nathaniel’s damp hair.

“He threw a bar of soap at me,” Jean grumbled as he rubbed his sore jaw.

“He started it,” Nathaniel argued.

“And now it’s over.”

Nathaniel and Jean glared at each other for a couple seconds before they each gave a reluctant nod. “Good. Let’s go.” Natalie waved to Jean as she tugged on Nathaniel’s left arm.

Keiichi waited for them by the elevator which went up to the East Tower and gave them a slight bow before he keyed open the doors. He congratulated them on a game well played, which Natalie thanked him for, and motioned for them to leave the car first when the doors opened onto the top level of the Tower.

Nathaniel managed a smile for his uncle, who stood waiting for them, dressed in a dark blue suit. “Still on your feet after all that?”

“You should know that I’m tougher than I look.” He was grateful when all Stuart did was gently tousle his hair instead of the usual hug.

“It’s those Hatford genes.” Stuart nodded in greeting to Natalie, who smiled in return. “You shouldn’t be here too long tonight.”

“Thank you. Tough or not, Nathaniel should be icing his ribs.”

He’d complain about her mothering him, but his ribs truly did ache.

Stuart led them to the main room, where Kengo was talking to a few of his lieutenants; Nathaniel assumed that Ichirou was busy in New York or somewhere else, most likely doing his father’s bidding. He wished that the younger Moriyama was there since it was easier to gauge Ichirou’s mood than Kengo’s, who almost always bore a blank expression and looked as if he could use a few more hours of sleep.

They stood around for almost half an hour while Kengo discussed a weapons shipment and punishing a minor gang for a botched batch of meth; it seemed as if most of the Moriyama lord’s important guests had already left. When he was finished giving orders to Hideaki, he motioned for Nathaniel and Natalie to come closer.

“ _I’ve recently talked to Ibanez, who controls a large part of the southeastern territory,”_ he said while nodding at Natalie. “ _You worked with one of his men to resolve a matter before it grew into a problem earlier this year, and he was impressed with your talent_.” It took Nathaniel a moment to realize that the ‘matter’ being discussed was Riko’s petty attempt at revenge against Andrew Minyard. “ _With the Hatfords’ assistance, we’ve been working toward an alliance with them, and their cooperation earlier was a first step. Now they’re asking to borrow your skills as part of our agreement_.” He motioned to them both at that last part.

It wasn’t like they could say ‘no’, could they? Kengo (and Ichirou) owned them and could order their deaths if they refused – could order Jean’s death. Nathaniel glanced at his sister and saw the same understanding in her dark eyes. They faced forward and bowed low in unison as a sign of their compliance; Nathaniel ignored the pain the movement caused.

Kengo grunted in satisfaction and motioned for them to stand up straight. “ _As I expected. See, Yoshi? They serve, as always. Maybe you should have your grandson brought here to learn some discipline_.”

Nathaniel glanced over to see Yoshi, one of Kengo’s older lieutenants, shake his head. “ _That boy has no coordination at all, I fear the damage he’d do if given a racquet_.”

The other yakuza laughed and took to teasing the poor man while Kengo motioned that they could leave; Stuart was quick to lead them from the room after they bowed once more.

“That went well,” Stuart said as he shook one of his clove cigarettes free from a pack. “From what I know, Ibanez has good people working for him, he just needs a bit of… finesse on jobs from time to time. That’s where you two will come in.”

“It’ll make for a change of pace,” Natalie said as she rubbed her left eye; she was probably tired after a long day and the game. Nathaniel knew _he_ was, and just wanted to go to sleep.

Stuart ruffled his hair again and wished them a good night once they reached the elevator, and promised to send all the information he had on Ibanez’s organization. A quiet Keiichi took them back down, then escorted them partially to the Black Hall since was late.

Natalie insisted on seeing Nathaniel to his room, probably so she could check his ribs before he went to bed, so they both were stunned to find Sara in there along with Jean.

“What’s going on?”

Sara got up from where she’d been seated at Nathaniel’s desk and approached Natalie, her face haggard and eyes red as if she’d been crying. “Can I… can I crash in your room again?”

“What’s going on?” Natalie repeated as she pulled Sara in for a hug; while his sister reassured her… semi-girlfriend, Nathaniel looked at Jean for an answer.

He didn’t appear much better. “Riko and several others aren’t happy with Lydia’s actions during the game tonight. From what we can tell… well, once Tetsuji was done with her, they decided to add to her punishment.”

Nathaniel’s first impulse was to go find Riko and beat the shit out of him, then make sure that Lydia was all right, but he stopped himself in time. Judging from the stiffness in Natalie’s body, she’d struggled with a similar impulse.

“Go to my room, I’ll be there soon. I doubt Susan will say anything, but if she asks, tell her I said it’s okay,” she said as she brushed back the dark brown hair which fell onto Sara’s face.

“Okay, and thanks.” Sarah sniffed as she leaned her forehead against Natalie’s then shuffled out of the room.

When it appeared as if Natalie was going to follow her, Nathaniel spoke up. “Lee, no. I hate to say it, but _no_.”

She gave him a betrayed look when she turned to face him. “We don’t know what they’re doing to her, how badly she’s hurt or-“

“I know, and it sucks, it does,” Nathaniel admitted as he slowly sat down on the bed next to Jean and rested against his partner; Jean was quick to wrap his unnaturally long arm around his shoulders. “But what is it you always tell me, hmm? We can’t take in everyone, we have to watch after our own. That there’s only so much of ourselves that we can give.” Even if it sucked.

And it really, really sucked.

She opened her mouth as if to argue then closed it as she gazed at Jean. “I… dammit, I know, but I hate this. I _hate_ how he keeps tearing apart everything good here.”

So did Nathaniel; the Nest was the closest thing to a home he’d ever had, him and Natalie and Jean, which was so fucked up.

“Which is why we have to be smart about this, have to think things through, and play our cards right.” When she stared at him, he smiled, not his father’s expression but his own. “We’re the ones with a direct line to the main branch, after all. We wait and we watch and we forget nothing, and sooner or later Kengo or Ichirou will have had enough of us cleaning up the asshole snake’s messes.” Because Riko hadn’t stopped creating them, he only seemed to grow worse over the years.

Natalie was quiet for several seconds then smiled; the expression slight but true. “It’ll be difficult, but we’ll do it. It’s a good thing you have me, because that plan is going to require a lot of patience and a good bit of cleverness.”

Before he could argue with her, Jean scoffed and shook his head. “You mean it’s a good thing you have _me_.” When Nathaniel and Natalie stared at him in confusion, he scoffed again. “Hold up your hand if you’re _not_ someone who resolves problems by stabbing them to death.” He raised his right hand and made a show of glancing around the room. “As I thought.”

Nathaniel gave his sister a weary look. “If my ribs didn’t hurt I’d have made him eat a bar of soap earlier.”

“Keep dreaming, _petit corbeau_ ,” Jean sneered.

“One impending downfall at a time,” Natalie said as she approached the bed. “Now, let me check your ribs before I leave.”

Nathaniel grumbled about being babied when he was fine, but he knew it would make her happy so he let her lift his shirt and poke his bruised side. She couldn’t help Lydia (not right now), but she could make sure he was more or less okay.

As always, it was just the three of them in the Nest – him, Natalie and Jean. They could depend on each other for anything, had each other’s back through thick and thin.

It would be the three of them who took Riko down.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> So, yes, a change or two to the timeline and the novels' plots. Andrew is not on drugs, obviously, or charged with the crime of beating up Nicky's assailants. Part of that is due to Kevin 'discovering' him sooner (credit it to Kevin looking for a distraction because of Riko or whatever), and then Natalie stepping in. However, the Foxes still voted on him being a teammate because he had been in juvie, which was a known fact, and I imagine he probably had some trouble in high school dealing with some of Aaron's friends. So still a known 'delinquent' with a tendency to resort to violence (his record wasn't sealed). 
> 
> As for Lydia, it isn't meant to be anything but a physical assault on her at the end, which is bad enough. So far, Natalie's threats have kept things in line. It's still not easy for Natalie and Nathaniel to let the abuse happen, but they can't start beating up Ravens and impacting the team, which impacts the main branch (bets, negative press and so forth). 
> 
> Ah, I think that's it? Let me know if anything else isn't clear. I'll probably post another chapter in 2-3 weeks.
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.  
> *******


	4. There are Better Ways to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You okay?” Susan gazed at her with brows drawn together in concern. “It sounds like you’re grinding your teeth.”
> 
> “I’m fine,” Natalie lied, “just thinking about our game against Yale.” That led to the others talking about the upcoming game and taking bets on the point spread; Natalie studied her brother while she ate to see if she’d missed something, if he’d changed without her noticing.
> 
> No, he still seemed the same Nat, the same Abram. So beautiful and clever, and utterly oblivious about the first, so convinced that no one was interested in him that way due in part to his resemblance to his father and that he wasn’t interested in them. He knew all about sex (Ally Hatford better hope he never crossed her path after that stunt with the porn video) but wasn’t inclined to try it himself; after his kissing ‘tests’ when younger, he appeared to decide that he wasn’t attracted to boys or girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi! Yes, it's an 'early' post (not a Sunday? That's early in my quagmire of a mind). I had this all edited and figured 'why not?' That way, too, I can focus on writing tomorrow. Or the rest of tonight. Or whatever. *shrugs*
> 
> I also felt it was long enough without a post of this story. 
> 
> So, triggers? Eh... well, more Natalie/Renee and Nathaniel/Neil working for the Moriyamas (so staged death looking like a suicide - drug overdose, but no one harmed other than the target). And it is THAT TIME, meaning Kevin leaving the Nest (meaning Riko abusing Kevin). Nothing graphic there (since no Kevin or Riko PoV), other than the aftermath. Obviously Renee/Natalie thinking about consent as well, and Andrew about his past. Oh, and the Nest (Riko and Tetsuji being assholes).
> 
> Uhm... I think that's it? As always, let me know if I should tag something.

*******

Natalie sighed when she noticed the Exy game playing on Nathaniel’s phone. “Can’t you turn that off?” she asked as she set her tray of food on the table.

“No, this is interesting.” Nathaniel tilted the phone so Susan could better see the screen. “What do you think?” he asked before he ate a bite of chicken.

“That I can bench-press the little runt, but he’s not half-bad.”

“What a surprise, you can bench-press me.”

“It’s such a fun trick to do in front of the rookies.” Susan smiled as she tousled Nathaniel’s hair, which made him wrinkle his nose and Jean chuckle. “He’s actually putting some effort in for once, isn’t he?” she said as she cut up her chicken breast.

“Duncan played the first half; he has to work to close the gap if the Foxes want a decent point spread.”

Jean scoffed in blatant disdain. “They should exile that pathetic excuse of a goalie from the Exy court. I know the Foxes’ recruiting standard is low, but really?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, they should just have Minyard and Salazar defend the goal each game, then-“

“Nat.” Natalie smiled at her brother as she cut him off. “I’ll give you my tangerine and eat your spinach if you turn off that game.” She disliked listening to him go on about Minyard, and Riko would throw a fit if he overheard the conversation.

For a moment it looked like he’d refuse, then he put his phone down and held out his hand; while they exchanged food, Jean gave her a knowing look for her heavy-handed bribery. She knew she hadn’t been subtle at all, it was just… it got on her nerves when Nathaniel brought up Andrew Minyard.

Why was he obsessed with the young man? He’d met him once, helped him out a little ( _she’d_ done all the hard work), and that should be that. Yet Nathaniel watched his games and followed his antics at PSU, and… and she didn’t get it. Was it a crush? Was he finally showing a romantic interest in someone?

“You okay?” Susan gazed at her with brows drawn together in concern. “It sounds like you’re grinding your teeth.”

“I’m fine,” Natalie lied, “just thinking about our game against Yale.” That led to the others talking about the upcoming game and taking bets on the point spread; Natalie studied her brother while she ate to see if she’d missed something, if he’d changed without her noticing.

No, he still seemed the same Nat, the same _Abram_. So beautiful and clever, and utterly oblivious about the first, so convinced that no one was interested in him _that_ way due in part to his resemblance to his father and that he wasn’t interested in them. He knew all about sex (Ally Hatford better hope he never crossed her path after that stunt with the porn video) but wasn’t inclined to try it himself; after his kissing ‘tests’ when younger, he appeared to decide that he wasn’t attracted to boys or girls.

To be fair, he was surrounded by older Ravens or yakuza almost all the time, so Natalie wasn’t sure if he really had a chance to be attracted to anyone or if he was on the ace spectrum. She just knew… well, she was perfectly fine with her little brother remaining single, without him getting his heart broken like Jean or someone using him for sex like Lydia.

Tetsuji would probably complain a lot if she killed a Raven for touching her brother, especially if they were a lower number.

(Not that she really cared, but Kengo usually assigned the more difficult jobs when he was ‘disappointed’ with one of them.)

The Yale game was an away one, which meant that they flew to New Haven; as always, the Ravens drew a crowd at the airports (they had a connecting flight in Philly), most of them for Riko and Kevin, but some for Natalie, Jean and Nathaniel since they were also part of the ‘Perfect Court’. Natalie and Jean took a protective stance in front of Nathaniel so no overeager fans got too close to him; it was while she posed for a picture with a young teenager gushing about how much it mattered to her to see someone else of Vietnamese descent make it to a Class I division team, that her parents no longer argued against her dreams of playing Exy, that she noticed Kevin’s closed off expression.

That was unusual, considering how confident (one would say arrogant) he was in front of a crowd.

She pushed that thought aside for a moment while she hugged the young girl (Cara) and slipped her a card with her email on it; she didn’t do that all the time with fans, but she remembered how strict and conservative her mother had been (before the alcoholism had gotten so bad).

(At least it sounded like Cara’s parents cared for her, were willing to listen and give her dreams a chance.)

She paid more attention to Kevin after Cara left (and noticed that her brother did the same), and picked up on the tension between her friend and Riko. She noticed how Riko shoved his way in front of Kevin to deal with the fans himself, and how Kevin let him do it.

She noticed how Riko’s eyes narrowed in displeasure whenever the fans made a fuss over Kevin.

Nathaniel waited until they were seated on the plane, all three of them in a row, to speak (in French). “ _Who all here believes that the asshole snake is starting to lose it, hmm_?”

Natalie sighed when Jean raised his hand and Nathaniel’s smile took on a vindictive edge. “ _He’s always petty when out in public, he wants all the attention_ ,” she said as she batted Jean’s hand down.

“ _He would have shoved Kev into a trash can if he could_ ,” Jean argued as he leaned closer. “ _That’s not petty, it’s…”_

_“Disturbed.”_

Jean nodded to Nathaniel in thanks. “ _Yes, it’s disturbed. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the posts about Kev being the better striker_ -“

“ _He **is** the better striker_,” Nathaniel muttered.

“ ** _Not helping_** ,” Natalie gritted out.

“ _You only prove my point_.” Jean gazed at her for a few seconds then rolled his eyes. “ _We all know he’s better than the asshole snake, and now everyone else is speaking up about that fact_.”

“ _Yes, but is that good for **Kev**_?”

Nathaniel and Jean fell quiet at her question, well aware of how petty and jealous Riko could be, how prideful he was of his #1 status. They’d all tried over the years to make Kevin stand up for himself, to come out of Riko’s shadow… yet understood why Kevin didn’t in the end.

He might not be property like them, but Tetsuji has basically laid claim to him once Kayleigh Day had died; all Kevin knew was Exy and Castle Evermore and RikoandKevin and the Ravens. Natalie supposed it was because he’d had a supportive early childhood, had the love of his mother during his formative years (okay, so she was a sociology major and had taken a few psychology classes), and was desperately grasping for something similar to that with Tetsuji and Riko.

(He was doomed to fail.)

Susan, long used to her little asides with her brother and Jean, waited until they were in the away team’s women’s locker room at Yale to talk, mindful of Lydia’s presence several feet away. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s jealousy is flaring up.”

Susan grimaced; there was no need to spell out who that ‘someone’ was. “Our job is to block goals and get the ball back down the court.” She glanced at Lydia, who was quiet as she dressed in the away game uniform – who’d been quiet ever since Riko had ‘punished’ her. “Let’s hope the others do their jobs so we don’t have to work so hard.”

Natalie nodded in agreement as she settled her shoulder pads in place.

The Ravens played as flawlessly as ever against the Bulldogs, determined to show why they were the best team in the northeastern district – in the Class I division – and that Yale would have to accept fourth place if even that. Natalie felt her chest swell with pride whenever Nathaniel and Jean were on the court, as she watched her brother stand up to opponents bigger than him and never give ground, as he taunted them into losing their tempers (and the ball) and assisted in scoring points.

Yale only scored two points before halftime; Susan high-fived Natalie and swore she wouldn’t let them score more points than that during her time in the goal. Natalie sipped her sports drink while Tetsuji chided Lev about the yellow card he’d received in the second quarter and Susan teased Nathaniel about something in Russian, full of contentment.

Nathaniel sat beside her while he and Jean waited to be put back in the game; they made idle remarks about the players in English and Japanese (mindful of Tetsuji and Akagi standing nearby). Natalie had let her attention drift to possibly dyeing her har a new color when the goal buzzer rang out and Nathaniel hissed as if displeased.

“What? We scored another point, yes?” The home crowd was booing.

“ ** _Kevin_** _scored, he’s now leading Riko_ ,” he said in French while Jean shook his head.

Oh.

She noticed the tension in Tetsuji’s straight back as he gazed out on court, but there wasn’t any way he could call Kevin off without drawing attention to the action, not when Kevin hadn’t received any yellow cards or injuries, when he was still good to play for the rest of the quarter. Riko tried to make up the difference in goals between them, and it appeared that Kevin even assisted him in that regard, but it was one of those games where Kevin often was in a better place to score than his partner.

Riko had _that_ smile on his face when he and Kevin were pulled off court at the end of the quarter; Nathaniel and Jean cast worried looks at Kevin when they went out to play for the final part of the game. Mike B tried to congratulate Riko for the goals he scored during the quarter; Natalie believed that the only reason Riko didn’t backhand the backliner was because they were out in public, he appeared so furious.

It was very quiet (and tense) on the sidelines while Sara and Karl scored three more points before the end of the game. Natalie gave Sara a small smile to acknowledge her hard work when she joined her friend out on court with the rest of the Ravens, but on the whole, the team was rather subdued despite their victory.

It only got worse when the reporters focused on Kevin during the post-game interviews.

Nathaniel gazed after Riko with the rapt attention he usually reserved for when out on court or dealing with an armed opponent. “ _Here’s hoping that Ichirou needs us to do something this weekend_ ,” he murmured in French.

Natalie agreed; she would rather be off on yet another unsavory assignment for the main branch than dealing with their deranged captain for the next few days; despite them being at an airport gate she positioned herself between her brother, Jean and Riko. “ _He should take off in a couple days for Baltimore_.”

“ _Him and Kevin_.”

She winced at that reminded then shared a concerned look with Jean while Nathaniel continued to watch Riko.

There was only so much she could do, she reminded herself. Her small family was safe, she’d managed that much despite the odds, and had to accept the reality of her situation.

It still hurt to watch Kevin all but cower away from a scowling Riko.

*******

Andrew sat slumped on the bench with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes barely opened; he only remained awake because Aaron and Nicky were out on court with Duncan, Reyes and Gordon. Beside him, Salazar snorted in disgust as Duncan and Gordon got into yet another loud argument with Wilds and Wymack.

“This is so fucked up,” Salazar muttered as she removed the orange scrunchy from the end of her braid so she could undo the dark brown strands and catch the stray curls which had escaped during practice. “I’ll be so happy when those assholes graduate and we don’t have to put up with them anymore.”

Boyd made a slight noise in complaint. “Eh, they’re not all bad.”

“Then why don’t you hang out with them, huh?”

“Ehhh….”

“Because you’re not some stoner asshole who knows he’s never going to amount to anything so has to bring down everyone around him, that’s why.”

“Wow, harsh a bit there, Mia?”

“I’m taking it easy on those losers.”

Andrew silently agreed with his fellow goalie, but then again, for a Fox she was a surprising pragmatist. Salazar also believed that Wymack should bench Duncan for being a pathetic goalie and let her and Andrew play in games instead of rotating her and Duncan in the first halves, and that the Foxes wouldn’t be such a dysfunctional mess if Wymack wasn’t a bleeding heart.

That was probably why she was the only Fox he somewhat tolerated, not that it was saying much. The team had labeled him and his ‘monsters’ after their little night out with Boyd, when they’d brought the backliner crashing down hard to make him face his festering addictions, and barely spoke to them off the Exy court.

He didn’t have a problem with that, nor did Aaron. Nicky had been upset at first, but after putting up with all the shit from Gordon and his buddies, realized he was better off making friends elsewhere.

Andrew didn’t know if university was what he’d imagined it would be, considering he’d never given it any thought in the first place, but the classes were easy enough, almost everyone left him alone (between him being a Fox and word getting out about his stint in juvie), and Exy was just as dumb as always. The only surprise was Bee Dobson.

It was mandatory for all Foxes to visit the psychiatrist once a semester; he figured he’d put in his owed time and be done. When she’d suggested weekly sessions? He’d scoffed out loud, until she proposed they meet during morning practice.

He figured he could sit in silence in a comfortable chair and drink hot chocolate rather than listen to Wymack shout for an hour. To his surprise… Bee wasn’t half bad for a shrink.

Not that she had any chance of fixing him.

Eventually, Wymack grew tired of yelling and called an end to practice for the day; Gordon and his buddies stomped off court, probably determined to get high and bitch with Mazzio, who’d been suspended from the team for lousy grades. Wilds shouted a reminder for the rest of them to study up for their game against the Jackdaws, which Andrew promptly ignored.

They grabbed takeout from the one cafeteria closest to the Fox Tower, Nicky babbling about how he swore his Geology prof was going to throttle this one annoying student if they interrupted class yet again (he promised to film it for them) and Aaron providing suggestions on how to egg the other student on. Once they returned to their suite, Andrew sat in the beanbag chair closest to the window, Aaron snagged the other one and Nicky the couch as they ate dinner while watching tv; Nicky in control of the remote for once.

“At least it’s a home game this week, so we’ll be able to hit Eden’s. I’m so ready for some fun this weekend,” Nicky said as he flipped through the channels. “Do you mind if I borrow the car tomorrow to run out and get a- eh?”

Andrew held up his left hand as a sign for him to stop and be quiet as he caught a familiar face on the screen: Natalie Shields. She was being interviewed by Exy News about some volunteer event. “-brought in almost three tons of food with your fall food drive. That’s quite an achievement.”

She smiled at the reporter, a false mask of innocence which Andrew knew better than to believe; she wore a Raven’s sweatshirt with her hair now colored a dark blue at the roots which transitioned to pale silver at the tips. “It sounds like a lot, but that only feeds about five thousand people. We’re doing our best to help the needy families in the area, especially with the holidays approaching.”

“And now you’ll be encouraging people attending the remaining games of the season to bring new or gently used coats and accessories as donations.”

“Yes.” The smile widened on Natalie’s round face and her dark eyes shone as if she was full of emotion. “I can’t thank our fans and Edgar Allan students enough for their generosity; we’ve been very fortunate and we want to help out others who might be in a rough place right now.”

The reporter, a man in his late twenties or early thirties, nodded along in a sympathetic manner. “Something you might know a little about, right?”

Natalie’s smile faded as the look in her eyes grew distant. “Yes, I know what it’s like to not have enough food in the house or to wear layers of shirts because there’s no money for a new coat. My life changed for the better when the Wesninskis fostered me, and I’m happy that Coach Moriyama supports my efforts to give something back to the community. We feel that-“

Aaron made a rude noise and motioned for Nicky to change the channel; after a glance at Andrew, who didn’t object, he obliged. “What a bunch of bullshit, it’s just more of the Ravens’ PR to make people hate them a little less.”

“I don’t know, she seems really genuine to me.”

“You are the most gullible idiot alive.”

“No, I’m not,” Nicky said. “Andrew, what do you think?” he asked as he leaned forward.

Andrew finished the piece of chicken finger he’d been holding before he spoke. “She’s a liar.” Oh was ‘sweet’ Natalie a liar – and a killer, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in Andrew’s opinion.

“See!”

“You two are just a pair of grouchy cynics,” Nicky grumbled as he slouched back on the couch and resumed flipping through the channels. “You think everyone has an ulterior motive.”

“Because they do,” argued Aaron.

Andrew ignored their familiar bickering as he wondered what Natalie was up to with her philanthropic actions; good PR like Aaron had suggested, or something else? A bit of poison in the donated food?

Who had she killed lately?

Did Nathaniel know what his foster sister did while not playing Exy?

When Nicky put on some ridiculous sitcom, Andrew left the suite to go to the roof and smoke in peace and quiet; when he returned downstairs, it was to find Aaron heading off to the library and Nicky busy studying. He grabbed two beers and went to the bedroom, where he settled in bed to finish an assignment for sociology, then wasted the usual ten minutes on his daily ‘what’s Nathaniel up to’ search.

There were some stupid posts about ‘Riko or Kevin, who is the true king?’ (or along those lines); yet another reporter had tried to get Nathaniel’s opinion, only to be stonewalled by the familiar ‘they’re both very talented players and I equally respect their skills’ line Nathaniel always used (which Andrew took to mean that Nathaniel favored Day), yet more pictures and videos of Nathaniel and Moreau bickering with and hanging on each other, of Natalie and Ivanova hugging him or tousling his hair, even a shot of him firing a ball at a cone in a complicated bounce maneuver while Day appeared to talk someone through a drill, which prompted Day to drop his racquet and chase after the little bastard.

Wasn’t it odd how there were no playful scenes of Nathaniel with Riko?

(From the little Andrew could tell, there were no playful scenes of anyone with Riko.)

Done with his disgusting bit of weakness for the day (he timed himself and closed the browser at ten minutes exactly), he set his laptop aside and spent the rest of the night reading before he went to sleep.

If he dreamed of a certain blue-eyed, redheaded backliner, he supposed it was better than the usual nightmares.

(Not really.)

The rest of the week went the way it normally did: boring classes, even more boring practice sessions, stupid pep rallies, suffering Wymack and his Foxes and Nicky’s inane babbling… all for it to culminate with the game on Friday. At least Salazar was in the goal for the first half, so the Jackdaws only scored three points, and Andrew ‘amused’ himself by allowing them one more point in the second half.

It kept him from falling asleep standing up and pissed off Duncan, who sat on the sidelines and watched the Foxes win a game with one of their biggest point spreads – in large part because the asshole didn’t play.

If only Wymack would get the fucking hint.

Then it was off to Columbia, a weekend away from campus and the Fox Tower and the judgmental stares to be found there (not that Andrew gave a shit about what people thought about him, but somehow he suspected his scholarship might be rescinded if he plucked out those judgmental eyeballs).

Nicky gave him a worried look as they ate their ice cream at Sweeties. “You’re being quiet, cuz. Well, quieter than normal. Something wrong?”

“Is carving out someone’s eyeball a felony or a misdemeanor?” He might be fine with it if was the latter.

Nicky gagged as if he was about to throw up while Aaron pulled out his phone as if to look it up. “Huh, maybe it depends on if the person survives? Bodily harm versus manslaughter?”

“Oh my god, why can’t we have _one_ normal meal together? Just _one_!”

Aaron and Andrew took to discussing the best way to go about that ‘bodily’ harm while Nicky groaned and buried his head beneath his arms (to be honest, they were doing it more to torture their cousin than anything) until Andrew finished his and Nicky’s ice cream. Nicky perked up when they left, excited as always about a night out drinking, dusting and dancing.

When they reached Eden’s, Aaron and Nicky grabbed a table while Andrew went to the bar for the first round of drinks. Roland greeted him with a smile and set about preparing the usual order, and gave a slight shrug when Andrew turned down his silent offer to meet up later in the store room. It wasn’t that Andrew wasn’t tempted… but he’d turned down Roland more often than not ever since that night Natalie Shields broke into his house.

Since the night that Riko Moriyama had attempted to hurt him through hurting his family.

Natalie had implied that Riko should be discouraged from sending anyone after Andrew’s family again… _should_. Andrew wasn’t in the mood to trust Aaron’s and Nicky’s safety to a ‘should’, especially after the online abuse heaped upon him when he’d signed to the Foxes, nor was he in the mood to have someone else protect them when it was _his_ job.

So he sat at the table by himself and forced himself to read a book on his phone instead of watch the Ravens’ latest game, to catch glimpses of Nathaniel out on court so _alive_ and _vibrant_ and damn _arrogant_ , literally taunting players several years older and so much bigger than him yet not ceding a single inch of court to them.

Andrew wasn’t that weak, wasn’t that… he wasn’t… damnit, he _would_ resist.

(It was just… it was just that Nathaniel was so unlike anyone he’d ever known, was so contradictory – was the good little Raven who followed along with the others yet had warned him away, who had the same hint of darkness in his eyes as his sister the murderer, was so bright and full of life on a team of dreary birds, was… was… just **_was_**.)

(Nathaniel was also in another state, in another district, on another team, was out of Andrew’s reach.)

He drove Aaron and Nicky home and made sure they made it to their respective beds, then allowed himself to watch highlights of the Ravens’ game against Cornell once he was in his own bed. It made for an awful lot of red on the screen of his phone, but Nathaniel stood out for the ‘3’ on his uniform as well as being the smallest, fastest figure on court.

Riko and Day might get the greater share of glory because of who their uncle and mother were, but Nathaniel had Andrew’s rare admiration for how he stood his ground against all comers.

The kid had been playing almost as long as Riko and Day – who the hell had looked at the pipsqueak and thought to make him a backliner? At least Aaron weighed more than Nathaniel did, even if he was shorter.

Eventually, Andrew fell asleep, exhausted from the game earlier, and managed to get through the night without any nightmares. When he woke up the next morning (late morning), he went out for donuts and fast food, more an excuse to drive around for a while than anything to clear his head. Nicky was up when he returned to the house and thanked him profusely for the food; he clicked his tongue and, after refilling his mug with coffee and placing several donuts on a plate, went to the back porch to enjoy his breakfast in peace while he smoked.

It was a quiet day; Nicky ordered pizza for dinner since there wasn’t much food in the house and no one felt like shopping, and spent most of his time in his bedroom video chatting with Erik. Aaron worked on a paper for his Lit class but took a break to watch a movie with Andrew, who otherwise slept or read.

During his ‘ten minutes Nathaniel search’, there was a clip of a reporter asking the backliner if he was hoping to meet someone important at the upcoming Winter banquet. Nathaniel rolled his eyes while Moreau snickered and said ‘yes’… then went on a rant about how Penn State’s captain needed smacked down since he was a delusional fool for thinking for even _one_ moment that the Nittany Lions were going to beat the Ravens this year.

The clip had racked up an incredible amount of views and almost the same number of likes; Andrew had a feeling that the northeastern banquet would be an interesting one to attend. At the least, it would be better than the southeastern one, where he was bored to tears for a few hours and watched all the teams mock the Foxes.

It was such a shame that the Ravens were in a different district.

Once back on campus, the team prepared for their final game of the season, against Blackwell, and for oncoming finals. Andrew wasn’t pleased that the last game was an away one, and could only hope that it was the last one for the season. He should have known better, really.

It was as if he jinxed himself; as if it hadn’t been bad enough having to drive to the game (meaning put up with the Foxes in a confined space for several hours) and then deal with Duncan in the goal for the first half (meaning much too much effort on his part during the second half to barely salvage a win)… Andrew soon after found out that the Foxes had barely squeaked their way into the top four for the division.

Oh, the news was tempered by the fact that Mazzio had flunked out of the fall semester, meaning no more scholarship so ‘bye-bye’ at last for the druggie moron, but the Foxes would have to play at least three games come January.

Andrew was betting it wouldn’t be much more than that, considering his dysfunctional teammates. Not unless there was a round of really nasty food poisoning at the other districts’ Winter banquets.

Still… he couldn’t help but wonder what were the odds of the Foxes facing off against the Ravens in the first round.

(And hated himself for the thought.)

*******

Nathaniel smiled at Eri, who giggled as she picked up the tray with the empty teapot, cups and snack plates.

“ _Are you sure you don’t need anything else? My brother your age is always eating_!”

“ _No, I’m fine, thank you, and we should be leaving shortly_.”

“ _Be safe, and I hope to see you soon_ ,” Eri wished him (and Natalie, judging from the smile she sent her way, along with a bow) before leaving the room.

Natalie rolled her eyes as she packed up her laptop; they’d been studying for finals while they waited for Ichirou to see them before they returned to Evermore. “You’ve got all of them wrapped around your finger.”

“You always tell me to be nice to them,” he reminded his sister; he suspected she was still upset about Naoko and Suzume kissing him the one time; it had just been a joke, had been quick pecks on the lip, and as with Thea and Jean, he hadn’t felt anything but amusement and curiosity.

“Just as long as they’re not too nice with you,” she muttered; he was saved from an argument when Ichirou and Shoji walked into the room. They were both quick to stand then bow to the Moriyama heir even though Ichirou motioned for them to stand up straight.

“ _Ready to return home for a few days_?” He tousled Nathaniel’s hair, something he did often.

“ _We have a few things to wrap up before we can come back here, with **Jean** , right_?” He still didn’t believe that Ichirou had agreed for them to bring Jean along over the holiday break since they were spending the entire time in the city this year.

Ichirou’s smile took on an amused edge as his hand slid down to cup Nathaniel’s cheek. “ _Yes, **with** Jean. Your uncle has a few things planned for your partner since you and Lee will be occupied a bit with work, though_.”

“ _That’s fine_.” All that mattered to Nathaniel was getting Jean out of the Nest for a couple weeks, where his partner could enjoy the holiday and have a bit of freedom.

He blinked when Natalie bumped into him, which made Ichirou’s hand fall away. “ _Thank you, sir. We should probably be leaving now, though_.”

“ _As always, you’re the punctual one, Lee_.” Ichirou laughed a little as he stepped away. “ _Maybe I should have her be my admin?_ ” That was directed toward Shoji.

“ _She’d put several of us out of a job, sir_ , _and imagine the trouble Abram would be in without her_ ,” the yakuza said with a slight bow.

“ _Yes, yes, she is a formidable one, and the perfect balance for my fiery wolf_.” Ichirou flashed a smile over his shoulder at Nathaniel before he left the room; it was quiet as Shoji motioned for the two of them to follow him out as well, then handed them over to Raiden.

Natalie didn’t speak until they were on the flight back to Charleston. “ _Try to avoid being alone with Ichirou_ ,” she murmured in French when Raiden was busy at the front section of the plane.

“Okay.” Nathaniel frowned at his sister and waited for more of an explanation. “ _Don’t you trust him_?”

“Ram….” Natalie sighed as she cupped his face between her hands and pulled him forward until their foreheads met. “ _One day you’ll realize how precious you are, but until then, listen to me, please. Don’t trust yourself with anyone but me, Jean and Stuart_.”

“ _You’re the only ones I truly do trust_ ,” he assured her as he combed his fingers through her hair; he really liked the dark grey with pale pink, blue and purple at the ends, and hoped that she kept it that way for a while.

She hummed in happiness for a couple seconds, then suggested that they should study some more before they landed. He groaned at the reminder, then resumed practicing his Arabic (another of Ichirou’s ‘suggestions’).

At least they only had the last week of finals and the Winter banquet to deal with, and then they’d spend the break in the city instead of the Nest. He’d miss Exy and was certain that they’ be allowed some time to practice if they asked, but it would be nice to not have to deal with Tetsuji and _Riko_ for a while.

Natalie brought up them doing some shopping and what he’d like for a Christmas and early birthday present (Ichirou and Stuart gave them spending money, not that they had many chances to use it, and there was the ‘just in case’ cash they tended to ‘liberate’ while working for the main branch), which meant he had to think of something other than a new Exy racquet or set of knives. That kept him busy while Raiden drove them back to campus.

The tension in the Nest was evident almost immediately once they returned; Natalie went off to her room after giving him a hug, so Nathaniel sought out Jean for an answer. His partner was seated on the top half of his bed, gazed fixed on the door of their room, and jumped up as soon as Nathaniel entered as if relieved to have him back.

“ _What’s going on_? _You okay_?”

Jean grimaced and tugged him to the bed once Nathaniel dropped his duffel bag. “ _I’m fine, other than Tetsuji working us even harder than usual. It’s just… Riko has been on a tear the last two days_.”

Nathaniel frowned upon hearing that and motioned to Jean’s back; when his partner nodded, he carefully lifted Jean’s black sweatshirt then cursed beneath his breath when he spotted three reddish lines against pale skin. What the hell had Tetsuji been thinking to find Jean at fault enough to strike him at least three times?

As if reading his mind, Jean caught his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “ _I was paired with Lee, so of course Riko was able to score upon the goal. Lee was punished worse than me, but I still received something as his partner during the game._ ”

“ _Riko set you up_.”

Jean didn’t argue with that, not when he usually was paired with Leif when Nathaniel wasn’t around, instead of the freshman backliner. “ _It’s done, let it go_.” When Nathaniel didn’t say anything, Jean shook his head. “ _Let it go, Ram, now isn’t the time_.” At Nathaniel’s curious look, Jean sighed. “ _There’s been even more questions lately about who’s the better striker, Riko or Kevin. An article came out on Friday listing their stats and basically insinuated that Kevin is holding himself back for Riko_.”

**Ouch**. Nathaniel winced upon hearing that; he and Natalie had been busy taking out a business rival and his bodyguards for Kengo for most of the weekend, which explained how they missed that. “ _How’s Kevin holding up_?”

“ _Not good_ ,” Jean said as he slumped against Nathaniel, the tall bastard. “ _He’s denying everything and doing his best to placate Riko but… I’ve never seen Riko like this before_.”

Well, for Riko, being #1, being the ‘king’ was everything; he’d been cast aside by his father and brother, and seemed to have some hope that if he was good enough at Exy that he’d be accepted by them one day.

He had as much of a chance of that happening as Nathaniel did of Mary coming back from the dead.

Tired of thinking about the asshole snake, Nathaniel distracted his partner by telling him to pack a bag for next Saturday, when the three of them would head to New York City together. Jean complained about being stuck with him during the holiday break, but Nathaniel could tell that the French bastard was excited about the trip, especially when Jean began to look up museums and restaurants to visit.

Despite it being finals week and no more games for the semester (the Ravens had scored more than enough points to assure them first place in their district if not division), practice was still mandatory. Nathaniel was grateful that he only had to show up for his exams (which between Natalie, Jean, Kevin and Susan tutoring him, he had no trouble passing). Especially when Jean was right about Tetsuji being on a ‘tear’.

It was as if the Ravens were headed into finals and not winter break; Tetsuji pushed them with an intensity usually reserved for when the team was about to clinch the playoffs and so needed to be absolutely flawless on court. He pounced on any perceived mistake and pushed them to the near-breaking point.

All the while, Riko was a dark, manic presence who treated his fellow teammates as if they were the enemy and not allies, who smashed into them on court and battered them down enough to earn dozens of red cards during a scrimmage, all for the sake of goals. Kevin, usual an intense, skilled player while out on court, faded into the background as he merely fed balls to his partner, a shadow of himself.

Nathaniel began to count down the days to winter break, even though it meant dealing with another banquet and at least one job for Kengo and Ichirou while in the city, just so he could get away from Riko, from having to watch what was being done to Kevin (what Kevin allowed to be done to him).

At first, everything seemed manageable; Natalie and Jean had to remind him at least five times a day to keep his opinion about Riko to himself (his feet and ribs were permanently sore from their ‘reminders’, and he was about to get a bald spot from their tugging on his hair), but the days were counting down and Jean’s ‘not-excitement’ about their upcoming trip was a welcome distraction. Then the ERC showed up at Castle Evermore to talk to Tetsuji at the end of the week.

Nathaniel had a bad enough feeling about the whole thing, but it only got worse when he, Natalie and Jean were pulled out onto court a couple hours before they were supposed to leave for the banquet in Pittsburgh, where Kevin and Riko were already waiting, along with several ERC officials watching from the sidelines. Tetsuji ordered the five of them to perform an informal scrimmage, and it didn’t take much to figure out that he was pitting Riko and Kevin against each other to see who could score the most goals.

Who could prove themselves the best striker.

As tempting as it would be to favor Kevin, Nathaniel knew that he had to give his all against both strikers, to make it as even as possible. One look at his partner and sister made it clear that they felt the same, so they pulled down their visors and prepared to play as if it was a real game.

Right away, Riko was determined as hell to batter down their defensive line and score as many points as possible, his usual viciousness on court somewhat restrained because of the ERC witnesses. He pounced on the ball like a starving predator spotting wounded prey and managed to score four points. Kevin, however… Kevin was good, as expected of a Raven, but he wasn’t _Kevin_ , wasn’t his usual brilliant self, and only scored two points by the time Tetsuji called an end to the scrimmage.

Tetsuji ordered Nathaniel, Natalie and Jean off to the showers and to prepare for the banquet while he, Riko and Kevin went to talk to the officials; they only hesitated for a moment before they obeyed.

Mindful of Riko joining them at any moment, nothing was said in the showers or locker room; Natalie indicated that she’d join them soon after she got dressed for the banquet. Once they were back in their room, Nathaniel let out a loud huff. “ _Kevin handed Riko that win_.”

“ _He certainly wasn’t playing at his best level_ ,” Jean agreed. “ _Do you think Tetsuji ordered him to lose_?”

“ _Maybe, he’s always played up Riko as the best and the ‘heir of Exy’, which is part of the asshole snake’s ego problem_.”

“ _True_.” Jean appeared thoughtful as he pulled on the black dress shirt that was the required uniform for the banquet. “ _But he can’t keep covering for Riko forever. Maybe Kevin held back today, but will he keep doing so? What about the next talented striker who comes along? What if they sign with the Trojans or Penn State instead of with the Ravens_?”

Like Jeremy Knox, who Kevin admired and thought was a talented striker, albeit not quite in his league. The junior was really good, though, and might have given Riko competition if he’d started playing Exy a little younger, if he’d trained as hard as a Raven.

“ _What I wouldn’t give to see the bastard lose his made-up crown_ ,” Nathaniel muttered as he did up the buttons on his shirt. “ _Hey, you’re French, got a guillotine handy_?”

“ _Of course, let me fetch it from the closet_.” Jean rolled his eyes and came over to fuss with the collar of Nathaniel’s shirt. “ _You and your obsession with sharp blades, little crow_.”

“ _You and your obsession with blond strikers_.” Nathaniel sneered as he went looking for his dress shoes (and his calf sheathes). “ _At least you don’t see me drooling over my knives_.”

“ _I do **not** drool_!”

“ _Right, guess I’ll see in person you **not** -drooling over Knox when we play the Trojans next semester, eh_?” Natalie had told him all about Jean’s flustered reaction to the Trojan’s striker, and Knox’s infatuation with Jean in return.

That led to Jean calling him an ungrateful partner and a terrible roommate; he took to listing all of Nathaniel’s many, _many_ faults in his eyes (starting with his British blood). He’d just mentioned Nathaniel’s habit of ‘borrowing’ his sweatshirts and never returning them when the door to their room opened without any warning knock.

Expecting it to be Natalie joining them and hoping she’d help defend him against his stupid mutton-head of a partner, Nathaniel turned around to complain about Jean only to fall silent at the sight before him – Kevin, pale from shock, his Raven’s t-shirt splattered in blood and his left hand wrapped in a blood-soaked towel.

“Nat… I… help,” Kevin stuttered out as he stumbled toward Nathaniel’s bed.

“What the hell?” Nathaniel and Jean leapt forward to help their friend, to catch him before he fell and settle him on the bed. “Tell Natalie to get here,” Nathaniel hissed to his partner as he cradled Kevin’s left arm between his hands. “What happened?” That was directed toward Kevin, who definitely suffered from a case of shock; he had to repeat the question before his friend responded.

“I… Riko,” Kevin breathed out while Nathaniel gently unraveled the towel. “He… he went on about being… being king. Being the only king.” He gulped in pain and for a moment, Nathaniel thought he would throw up; while Nathaniel undid the towel, Jean set his phone aside and went to fetch their medkit from the closet. “Then he took his… his racquet to my huh-hand.”

Yeah, Nathaniel could see that, now that the towel was open; Kevin’s left hand was a mangled mess, with at least three fingers broken and the skin on the back split open. Bone poked through in two spots, and blood trickled out of the wounds onto the already soaked towel.

A weak cry slipped from Jean’s lips as he set the medkit down on the bed, but he otherwise schooled his expression to show little emotion as he opened the large red plastic box. Nathaniel had just fastened a tourniquet around Kevin’s wrist to slow the blood loss when Natalie entered the room.

“What’s the hurry, I was already- what the hell?” As soon as she spied Kevin and his hand, all annoyance faded and she slipped free a knife from the sheath on her right thigh. “Who did it?”

“Riko,” Jean explained as he handed Nathaniel wipes to clean his hands, used to assisting whenever Nathaniel had injuries from his ‘side job’.

Knowing his sister as well as he did, Nathaniel shook his head. “Not now, Lee. First we fix this as much as we can, then we figure out what to do.” He motioned to Kevin’s hand while he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

Natalie’s dark eyes narrowed for a moment, then she resheathed the knife and grabbed one of the desk chairs to brace the door before she joined the three of them near the bed. “Let me, I’m better at this than you.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel gladly let her take over because she did do a better job at setting bones than he did, though he had a finer hand when it came to stitches. “Kevin? Hang on, I can give you something for the pain,” he told his friend when Kevin’s normally light brown complexion turned ashy when Natalie gently moved his injured hand about.

“I don’t… oh god, it’s ruined,” Kevin slurred while Jean got up to fetch a bottle of water and Nathaniel popped free a couple pain pills, a muscle relaxer and an antibiotic (one had to appreciate yakuza doctors and their willingness to hand over medication) – nothing too powerful, but something to help his friend through the next few hours. “I’ll nuh-never play again. He made sure of it.”

“Hush,” Natalie said in a soft voice while she continued to exam his hand; once he swallowed all the pills, she had Jean prepare the splints and bandages to give the medication a minute or two to kick in then nodded to Nathaniel.

“Look, he’s not going to get away with this,” Nathaniel said as a distraction from what his sister was doing. “We’ll make sure of it. He’s ruined nothing.”

“But…aahh!” Kevin gagged a little while Natalie reset his left middle finger but managed not to throw up. “But… he’s _Riko_ , a _Moriyama_.”

“And I’m a _Wesninski_ who reports to _Kengo Moriyama_ ,” Nathaniel reminded his injured friend. “We’re not going to let him hurt you again.”

“No, we’re getting you out of here,” Natalie said as she continued to work on Kevin’s mangled hand. “Tonight.”

“ _What_?” Kevin and Jean gaped at her while Nathaniel gave her a considering look. “That’s impossible,” Kevin slurred, the drugs having kicked in while Jean’s expression grew thoughtful.

“No, it’s not, but we’re on a tight deadline.” Natalie frowned at Kevin’s hand and began to butterfly the wounds closed. “You need to get somewhere safe and where a professional can look at this. We’ve a safehouse or two, or-“

“Puh-palmetto,” Kevin stuttered out. “David Wymack.”

“Your father.” Jean narrowed his eyes as he stepped back from the bed. “You’re finally going to run to your father?”

Kevin ducked his head, which made him sway on the bed. “I’ll… I’ll go to him, at least for now, and figure things out… out from there.”

Nathaniel glanced at his sister, who shrugged to show she was fine with it. “Where are the Foxes now?” she asked. “They won’t be at the university.”

“University of Virginia for the banquet.”

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised he knew that. “We need to move fast. Contact Matsumoto so he can ensure we get Kevin out of here, then Stuart to arrange a car for a long-distance drop-off. Tell him we’ll explain tomorow when we see him.”

That was going to be fun, but Nathaniel knew they’d deal with the price later, that the important thing was getting Kevin safely away from Riko and Tetsuji. While he did as he’d been told, Jean mumbled some sort of excuse about checking the halls then slipped out of the room.

Matsumoto promised to disable the security cameras and unlock the door on the east side of the stadium for them, as well as passed along that Tetsuji and Riko had left Evermore with the ERC officials and weren’t expected back for almost an hour (right before the team would leave for Pittsburgh). Stuart texted back that a car would be there within half an hour, tops, and looked forward to a good explanation when they arrived in the city.

“We need to move,” Nathaniel said as he went to fetch a clean pair of clothes from Jean’s dresser. “What about the rest of the team?”

“In their rooms or the western common room, pooling their liquor together and planning on the party they’ll hold in the hotel tonight,” Natalie said with confidence. “They won’t come anywhere near this hall and risk Riko spoiling their fun.”

Good. He waited until Natalie had finished wrapping Kevin’s hand so he could help his friend change into the borrowed clothes. “No stitches?”

“No, the bones may have to be reset so I just closed the cuts enough to staunch the bleeding.”

“Never play again.” Kevin sounded hopeless as Nathaniel yanked Jean’s t-shirt over his head.

“Have more faith in Lee,” Nathaniel said; while he was stuck dressing a wounded and drugged Kevin, Natalie grabbed a small bag in which she put a burner phone, some pills and bandages, and a stack of cash from their ‘just in case’ stash.

Right after he’d managed to get Kevin dressed, Jean slipped back into the room. “It’s quiet out there, I didn’t see anyone.”

“Good, help me with Kevin, we need to get to the east exit.”

Jean shook his head as he approached Kevin and bent down to wave something in the striker’s face rather than help Nathaniel haul him upright; it was a folded piece of paper. “Kevin. _Kevin_. Are you planning on telling Coach Wymack that he’s your father?”

Kevin focused his eyes on Jean and shook his head. “I… jus’ asking his help. He can’t know, can’-“

“I thought so,” Jean said, his voice thick with disgust. “You’re going to run to the man and ask for help, but not tell him? _No_ , you coward. You go there and you _tell him_. You show him _this_.”

Nathaniel realized that Jean was waving a letter in Kevin’s face and that his friend must have run to the library to fetch the note that Kayleigh Day had sent to Tetsuji about Kevin’s paternity. “Jean, do you think that’s a good idea?”

Jean made a noise of disgust and waved his concerns aside. “Who here was raised in anything resembling a normal family, hmm? Whose father hasn’t tried to kill them?” Jean made a show of looking around when Nathaniel and even _Natalie_ glared. “Yes, yes, mine is a bastard who traded me to pay off a debt, but still, I know more about this than the two of _you_ , who think of knives as acceptable play toys.”

Natalie eyed Jean in that intense way of hers for a couple seconds before she turned to Nathaniel. “Okay, I’m seeing the ‘French bastard’ thing you always complain about.”

“Oh, sure, _now_ you-“

“But Kevin is not prone to murder as an acceptable past time, at least not yet,” Jean said in a loud voice, “and Wymack appears normal, if affected by terrible recruiting standards. So he will take this letter and he will confess to the man, _correct_?” That last seemed directed to Kevin, who sat on the bed hunched over his injured hand. “Or I will mail to him a copy of it which I just made.”

“You… you wouldn’t!”

“Did you miss the ‘French bastard’ part?” Nathaniel asked his incredulous friend. “Now if we’re all done with the character slander and blackmail, we need to go.”

“But they’ll hurt him if-“

“No, they won’t,” Natalie assured him, her tone exasperated as if she was reaching the limit of her usually vast patience. “We’ll make sure they don’t, just like we’ll protect you. Tell him, like Jean said.”

Once on his feet, Kevin moved on from ‘my hand is ruined, I’ll never play Exy again’ to ‘Riko will never let me go, this is a mistake’. Nathaniel put up with it for all of two minutes (and Jean said he didn’t have a compassionate bone in his small body), before he snapped.

“Kev, for fuck’s sake, you’re talking to the two people who regularly fuck with Riko’s fucking plans, so shut the fuck up.”

“Could there possibly be another ‘fuck’ in that sentence?”

“I will fucking throw you out of the plane tomorrow, see if I don’t, you fucking French mutton-head.”

Natalie paused in scouting ahead to give the three of them a disapproving look. “Nathaniel, language, please. Jean, stop picking fights. And Kevin? Nat has a point, even if it was phrased a bit vulgarly.”

All of them mumbled ‘sorry’ and it was quiet for a few steps before Kevin groaned. “But… he’s gonna come after me. You’re gonna be in-“

“Don’t worry about us.” Natalie gave him a reassuring smile. “He can’t touch us, not with the main branch’s protection, and we’ll run interference for you. Just get to your father, tell him the truth, and focus on healing.”

“And, uhm, keep quiet about the Moriyamas,” Nathaniel advised, certain that things would go better for all of them if Kevin didn’t tell any tales.

They spent the rest of the way to the exit quietly giving Kevin advice: explaining to him about the burner phone and how to reach them in case of emergency, about the pills in case the pain got to be too much, the money in the bag, and what to tell his father. They swore they’d check in with him as soon as they could, and spent the few minutes while they waited for the car to arrive bolstering Kevin’s anxious nerves as much as possible.

Natalie checked that the driver of the black Lexus sedan was actually sent by Stuart while Nathaniel and Jean managed to get Kevin into the back of the vehicle (and gave him a quick hug), then watched it drive away. When it was out of sight, they hurried back into the Nest; Nathaniel sent Matsumoto a text to let him know to lock down the place again and that they were done.

He and Jean went to their room to clean it up (destroy the evidence, so to speak, with a quick run to the incinerator) while Natalie returned to hers to finish getting ready for the banquet. It was fortunate that they were very good liars, because right before the team was to gather to leave Evermore, Tetsuji stopped by the room to ask if they’d seen Kevin after the scrimmage earlier.

Nathaniel had been taught to lie as soon as he could speak (my father’s a good man, I fell down the stairs, I’m not hurt) and had honed the skill well over the years. It wasn’t a skill Jean had needed too much before he’d come to Edgar Allan, but he’d learned quickly since then and learned well; Tetsuji could find no fault with their ‘no, we haven’t seen him at all’ and left after a few minutes.

He wouldn’t get anything different from Natalie.

The Ravens were confused when they gathered for the buses which would take them to the banquet and they only saw a quiet Riko without Kevin by his side; Tetsuji informed them that Kevin had fallen ill and would remain at the Nest. Nathaniel noticed that Akagi and Matsumoto weren’t around and didn’t go onboard any of the buses, and that Nakamori remained close to Riko as if to watch over the asshole.

It was a quiet ride to Pittsburgh; the Ravens in the bus with Tetsuji, the higher ranked ones, realized that their ‘Master’ was upset about something and were unwilling to draw his attention to them. Nathaniel pulled out his phone and earbuds so he could study Arabic, Jean played a game on his phone, and Natalie and Susan read books; all of them acted as normal as possible.

Riko was back to his usual arrogant self by the time they reached the University of Pittsburgh’s campus; he had the Ravens line up in the parking lot by their numbers then ‘sync’ up so they moved as one (something that was drilled into them during workouts such as running, marching, and katas until they all reacted at the same time, more of Tetsuji’s ‘all for one’ bullshit). Once he was satisfied with their appearance, he took the lead and headed inside.

There was a lull in conversation as they entered the Exy court converted into a party hall for the weekend, smatters of black and gold overwhelmed by red and green for the holidays. Someone had plastered Santa hats on the panther mascots, and a couple trees were decorated in black and gold.

Joey Sanford, the Panther’s captain, greeted them upon their arrival, his smile strained in the face of Riko’s condescending nature. “Ah, where’s Kevin?”

“Stomach bug,” Riko replied in an offhand manner.

“Okay. Well, glad the rest of you could make it.” Sanford didn’t sound very believable, but Nathaniel gave him a ‘B’ for effort. “Let’s show you to your table.”

They were seated across from Villanova, a team they’d trounced back in October, what fun. Since Jean sat to the left of Riko, Nathaniel amused himself by talking in Japanese with Natalie and Russian with Susan, chuckling as they exchanged stories about their finals.

“It’s rude to talk in another language that people can’t understand,” one of the strikers seated across from him snapped halfway through the dinner.

“Not my fault you can only speak English.” Nathaniel let a sliver of his father’s grin creep across his lips.

“Yes, our apologies, do continue with the conversation you’d started with us,” Natalie said with a slight smile. “Oh, wait, you’ve basically ignored us the entire time.”

Riko spoke up for the first time since their food had arrived. “Because they’re jealous of us, looking up at us from their twelfth-place position. Such pathetic losers.”

That… was a little much.

“You’re a bunch of assholes,” Villanova’s captain muttered, which made Riko smile; Nathaniel braced for a fight, verbal or otherwise, but the other team continued to ignore the Ravens for the rest of the dinner.

That theme carried through for the rest of the banquet, where it was clear that the other teams were all too happy to pretend that the Ravens weren’t present. It wasn’t much of a surprise since they never were that popular, especially since it had been announced yet again that they were in first place, and Nathaniel wasn’t much in the mood to socialize with strangers. It was especially good on a night when Riko had brutally betrayed the closest thing he had to a real brother and appeared to be sneaking alcohol whenever he went to the bathroom.

Somehow, the asshole snake managed to hold it together until Tetsuji had decided that the Ravens had been at the banquet long enough and could finally leave for their hotel, his dark eyes narrowing with displeasure whenever they settled on his nephew. Nathaniel gladly left Riko to his fate and retreated to the room he shared with Jean for the night, collapsing in bed after checking his phone for any messages from Stuart or Kevin.

There was only one, from Stuart letting him know that the driver had made a successful ‘delivery’ and that he had a lot of questions to answer.

Wonderful.

He checked the news as soon as he woke up in the morning, but there were no ‘breaking stories’ about Kevin Day being injured and leaving Edgar Allan, so it seemed that David Wymack was keeping things a secret for now. It was while Jean was taking his turn in the shower that their phones pinged with the message that the Ravens were returning to campus, the banquet cut short that year.

Nathaniel wondered if Riko had finally confessed what had happened to his uncle.

Considering the bruise on Riko’s right cheek and the redness in his eyes, Nathaniel suspected that he’d guessed right. It was an even more tense ride back to Evermore, not helped by the fact that several of the upperclassmen were hung over.

As soon as they reached the Nest, Tetsuji pulled Nathaniel, Jean and Natalie aside and once more questioned them about Kevin and what had happened after the scrimmage yesterday, but they stuck with their story about returning to their rooms and preparing for the banquet and not seeing him. He grew frustrated with their denials, but there was little he could do when they soon had to leave for New York City – and considering the protection of the main branch.

(Natalie assured them that Susan would stick with the story that Natalie had been with her the entire time after the scrimmage.)

“ _It’s not going to be good when he realizes that Kevin ran to his father and isn’t coming back_ ,” Jean murmured as he zipped his duffel bag closed.

“ _No, but it’s **Riko’s** fault, not ours_,” Nathaniel reminded his partner. _Riko_ was the one who’d broken Kevin’s hand in a fit of jealousy, and Tetsuji was the one who’d allowed Riko to grow into such a monster.

Keiichi was there to drive them to the airport, accompany them on the flight then take them into the city, quiet as always; Jean was all wide eyes upon boarding the small jet and the attendant (Yuka) offering him refreshments. He certainly enjoyed the espressos she brought him, and the platter of maki rolls to snack on during the flight.

“You two are spoiled.”

Nathaniel huffed as he slapped Jean’s hand away from the last two pieces of spicy salmon roll. “Tell us that again when we’re spending all day in photo shoots.” Ichirou expected them to do some ‘legal’ work during their break and had a couple of promotional campaigns in the works for them.

“Yes, yes, working while full of good food and chauffeured around, so difficult.” Jean sneered, and got a small ball of wasabi flicked at his chin.

The bastard resumed sneering when they were dropped off at the hotel first; Jean spun around to take in the suite with its gas fireplace in the living area, mini-kitchen, fire table out on the deck and view of downtown Manhattan, soaking tub in the bathroom and king-sized bed in the bedroom he’d share with Nathaniel. “Spoiled indeed.”

“You’re being sent back to Charleston.”

Jean snatched the phone from Nathaniel’s hands (damn his long reach) and claimed the side of the bed closest to the windows, a slight yet pleased smile on his face which made Nathaniel happy to see; he would put up with the teasing and the stupid photo shoots and however many people Kengo and Ichirou would send him out to kill just because Jean was content.

After they unpacked and changed clothes, Davis showed up to take them to the Moriyamas’ main office building. They settled in the one conference room where Eri brought them tea and snacks (and congratulated them on a good season so far); they’d barely finished their first cup of tea when Ichirou and Stuart arrived.

Nathaniel and Natalie rose to their feet to bow to Ichirou, with Jean scrambling to join them; Ichirou gazed at them for a few seconds before he motioned for everyone to sit. “This is when you tell me why Kevin Day is in South Carolina.”

Him jumping right into the matter at hand wasn’t the best of signs; Nathaniel glanced at his sister and started talking when she gave him a slight nod. “For the last couple months, there’s been a lot of speculation on who is the better striker, Riko or Kevin. I know it sounds silly, why something like that would matter, but his rank as number one is important to Riko, and Tetsuji as well.” He paused for a moment to see if Ichirou understood, and continued when the Moriyama heir nodded. “It wasn’t helped by Kevin performing so well this season, and apparently, the ERC showed up at Castle Evermore to question Tetsuji if he’s purposely holding Kevin back.”

“And is he?”

Nathaniel grimaced as he motioned up and down with his hands as if weighing two objects. “Not overtly as far as I can tell, but Kevin knows how important it is to them that Riko’s the best, and how Riko will react if he loses that status.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“Riko and Kevin were pitted against each other to see who was the best, and Riko won,” Nathaniel explained. “But that wasn’t enough for Riko. Maybe he thought that it would keep happening, that people wouldn’t be satisfied with the results, or maybe he realized that Kevin really is better than him and one day would stop holding back.” He looked directly at Ichirou, who sat there with an impassive expression while they discussed his disinherited younger brother. “So he took his racquet and did his best to destroy Kevin’s left hand to ensure that Kevin couldn’t play again, then walked away. Kevin came to us for help and we gave it to him.”

Natalie took over from there. “I provided what medical assistance I could, then we snuck him out of the Nest.”

Ichirou and Stuart exchanged glances, their postures less stiff than they’d been when they’d sat down, and Ichirou motioned for Nathaniel to pour them tea. “Why South Carolina?” Stuart asked as he leaned back in his chair. “Why not a safe house?”

“Because David Wymack is Kevin’s father, though the man didn’t know it before now.” Natalie pushed the tray of castella and daifuku closer to Nathaniel’s uncle. “We felt confident that he’d take Kevin in and remain quiet about everything for his son’s safety.”

“We made sure that Kevin knew the importance of keeping the Moriyama name out of things,” Nathaniel said as he set the teapot down.

“I’d expect nothing less from you,” Ichirou said as he picked up the porcelain cup. “Now tell me honestly, _do_ you expect him to remain quiet?”

Nathaniel, Jean and Natalie exchanged glances before they all nodded. “Yes,” Natalie assured Ichirou. “Kevin’s too afraid to go against the family to say anything unwise, as well as provoke retaliation against his father. It’s why he didn’t run to the man earlier than this when he uncovered the truth about David Wymack.”

“You could have brought him here to have his hand fixed.”

Nathaniel shook his head as he disagreed with his uncle. “We needed to break all ties between him and Riko, it’s the only way he can move on. As long as there’s a chance of him going back to the Ravens, Riko will continue to control him, and most likely will attack him again once people start talking about Kevin being the better striker.” He gazed at Ichirou while he tapped the ‘3’ on his cheek. “As long as there’s a chance of Kevin healing and playing again, he’ll perform his best away from the Ravens.”

Ichirou seemed to consider that as he sipped his tea. “I’ve work for all three of you, but before you return to Edgar Allan, you’ll go to South Carolina to ensure that Day remains quiet about everything he knows about the family and what happened at the Nest. You’ll also pass along that the family has invested in him, and _if_ he does play again, he’ll be expected to repay that investment.”

Nathaniel wanted to smile at what was Ichirou basically saying that Kevin was free from the Ravens, though he was certain that Riko wouldn’t let go of his partner so easily. He bowed his head while Natalie assured Ichirou that Kevin was too devoted to Exy to give up playing without a fight.

After that, they talked about the schedule for the next two weeks; there would be several photo shoots and a couple interviews, at least one ‘assignment’, and a few days where they could take advantage of roaming the city. They had the rest of the day to themselves, but Stuart would let them know what to say about Kevin and Riko, as damage control on that front would begin immediately.

They returned to the hotel, where they ordered room service and ate while watching movies, a rare treat where they got to act like normal people for once. Nathaniel checked the other districts and wasn’t surprised to find out that the Trojans were in first place for the southwestern district (and got a decorative pillow thrown at him when he teased Jean about seeing his crush sometime in the playoffs), but was to learn that the Foxes had somehow manage fourth place in the southeastern one.

“Think they’ll make it far,” Nathaniel asked as he threw the pillow back at his partner.

“They’ve improved, but they still have a terrible goalkeeper for the rest of the season,” Natalie said. “If Wymack puts Duncan in a game, they’re going to lose and they can’t afford a single loss at this stage. I’d be surprised if they make it to the death matches.”

Hmm, harsh but true.

The next morning, Raiden drove them to the ice rink at Rockefeller Center after a light breakfast, where they found the rink closed to the public and things set up for a photo and film shoot. It appeared that they were to model a line of winter wear, so after they had hair and make-up done, they were given outfits to put on, along with pairs of skates, and thrust out onto the ice.

Nathaniel and Natalie had learned to skate in Baltimore to encourage ‘balance’ (he suspected it was his mother finding excuses to get them out of the house as much as possible), while Jean had been taught along with his sister in France. They all were a little rusty, and so were given a little time to practice before the shoot began. By the time they were asked to start posing, a large crowd had gathered around the rink.

They had to ‘stand’ in various poses (not the easiest thing to do in skates) or move slowly while wearing different coats, scarves and hats (at least everything was warm since it was a cold day with flurries), then were given a chance to move about freely. Nathaniel smiled as he sped up and shoved Jean into the nearest wall, which made his partner curse and chase after him. They raced around the ring several times until he closed in on a laughing Natalie and tried to ‘hide’ behind her, which made both of them spin around, until Jean crashed into them and all three of them fell onto the ice.

After that… it was a wonderful time when they actually got to _play_. Jean attempted to lift Nathaniel into the air like ice skaters did, and after nearly dropping him a few times finally succeeded. Natalie somehow figured out how to spin around, and spent several laughing minutes showing Nathaniel and Jean how to do it, too. They raced each other on the ice, crashed into each other and whirled around and fell down and… Nathaniel couldn’t remember a time when they’d laughed so much.

By the time the shoot was done, they were sore and tired and wet from falling onto the ice so much, and a bit regretful that it was over. They were told they could keep the black and red coats they’d worn at the end of the shoot; everyone seemed very excited about the whole thing and with them, so Natalie thanked the one ad executive before they changed into dry clothes.

Raiden allowed them a few minutes to sign autographs and take pictures with the fans gathered around the rink; Nathaniel still wasn’t happy about that part of being a Raven and ‘Perfect Court’, but knew it was expected of him. When the press of the crowd grew to be too much, Raiden stepped in to pull them free and led them back to the SUV.

Stuart was waiting for them in the suite, along with their lunch (what looked to be Thai food from one of their favorite restaurants). “I hear things went well this morning, everyone’s talking about the three of you.”

“Uhm, that’s good, right?”

Stuart smiled at Nathaniel as he picked up a spring roll. “Yeah, it’s good. The focus is on you right now, and Ichirou was pleased that the photo shoot is already trending.”

“It’s good publicity,” Natalie said as she handed Jean a container of chicken with cashew nuts, while Nathaniel started on his green curry with shrimp.

“Yeah, and a good distraction.” Stuart jabbed the remaining half of the spring roll at her as she opened her container of laab. “Speaking of which, Kengo had a _lovely_ chat with Tetsuji last night.”

“I bet he did,” Nathaniel murmured as he poked at his food with his chopsticks.

“Yeah, I’m sure there was a lot of brotherly love going on there.” Stuart huffed before he finished the spring roll, then wiped his hands clean on a cloth napkin. “If anyone asks, Riko and Kevin are bonding on a ski trip.” At the incredulous stares directed his way, he shrugged and reached for another spring roll. “Not my bright idea, I’m just the messenger.”

“I guess… the less we say, the better?”

“Always the best plan,” Stuart agreed with Natalie. “Also, got some work for you tonight.” He finished the second roll, wiped his hands again, then reached into his coat for a set of folded papers. “Local job, Kengo wants it done quickly so you’ll go out tonight.”

It was to be expected, especially since they were ‘available’ for the family to use. “Understood,” Nathaniel sighed as he thought about how nice the day had started.

Natalie set the papers aside for them to look at later; the rest of the meal they talked about the places Jean wanted to visit while in the city, with Stuart taking notes so he could do his best to arrange as much as possible around their schedule.

Stuart gave Nathaniel a hug before he left and promised to spend a couple hours with him on Christmas as well as bring along a few presents from the family. That reminded him that they still needed to go shopping for each other, but first they had a job to do.

Jean brewed tea as he and Natalie reviewed the papers Stuart had given them (with the gas fireplace burning so they could throw the documents into it once they were done); they were to stage a suicide if possible and destroy certain data. Considering that the target had a wife and toddler in the house, they would do the best to go along with that plan.

They went over the floor plan and the information Stuart had given them while they drank tea, with Jean a quiet, anxious presence nearby. Once they felt that they had everything memorized, Natalie destroyed the papers while Nathaniel looked at his partner.

“ _I… I always knew what you did for the main branch, I guess… how do you actually go through with it?”_ Jean asked, his voice quiet and strained.

“ _Because the price is too high if we don’t_ ,” Nathaniel tried to explain. “ _It’s someone’s life in the end, either theirs or ours, or worse, someone we know, if we don’t do anything_.”

Jean flinched at that, his hands worrying at each other as he folded in on himself. “ _You do it because of_ -“

“ _It was going to happen one way or another_ ,” Natalie said as she ran her fingers through his thick black hair, the ends tipped in red. “ _Nathaniel is a Wesninski and a Hatford, is the son of the Butcher. I was trained by the Butcher and Lola Malcolm, was meant to work for Nathaniel’s father but got sent to the Moriyamas instead. They weren’t going to let those skills go to waste while we played Exy, so we made sure we got something of value from them in exchange_.”

“ _Yes, but_ ….” Jean let out a slow breath as he sat up. “ _Why do they get to control our lives so much? Why do they get to have so much power_?”

“ _No one ever said life was fair_.” When Jean glared at him, Nathaniel gave him a lopsided smile. “ _I mean, look at me being stuck with you._ ”

Jean continued to glare for a few seconds then huffed. “ _I think it’s the other way around, you brainless crow_.”

_“No, it’s definitely **me**_.”

They argued for a couple minutes, until Natalie did her ‘children’ thing and insisted they watch a movie. Since she was the only ‘adult’ in the room? She got to pick it.

Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at her then got up to make more tea while she went through the options to find something suitable, a silly comedy that made them laugh and put them in a good mood.

At least, until it was over and he and Natalie had to get ready to work.

They dressed in dark clothes, with their hair tucked beneath caps and makeup over their tattoos. They each had at least three knives strapped onto their bodies and a small backpack filled with various odds and ends (lockpicks, glasscutters, wire cutters, tape, plastic ties, etc.); Nathaniel paused when he saw Natalie remove the fake bottom of her duffel bag to pull out stacks of money, which she put into her backpack.

At his curious look, she gave a too-casual shrug. “It’ll make things easier.”

He thought about the wife and child and didn’t argue.

Shoji waited for them outside their room and led them to the basement parking garage via the staff elevator; when they were settled in the SUV, he handed them each a small plastic bag which contained a USB drive, a microSDHC chip, and a bottle of medication. “ _Make sure to clear all of his devices, find out where he’s stored anything_.”

It sounded as if someone had been looking into something they shouldn’t.

They drove half-hour or so outside the city, to a neighborhood that Nathaniel supposed people would think of as ‘quaint’. There was almost no traffic that time of night, people sleeping before they had to go to work the next day or maybe away for the holidays – he didn’t care as long as no one noticed them.

Shoji parked a couple blocks away from the target’s house, at a closed for the season ice cream shop with no exterior cameras. Nathaniel and Natalie left the SUV and crept along the dark streets, avoiding the few houses with holiday lights still glowing that late at night.

The target’s house didn’t have a security system since it was a rental, which made things easier, as did the older windows which were easier to unlock with a bit of knowhow and the right tools. They broke in on the first floor, closed the window behind them, and made their way to the full bathroom on the second floor.

The Moriyamas had people watch the target for the last few days at least, long enough to establish a pattern in the man’s life (and determine the best way to get rid of him). Long enough to know his sleep patterns and medications (Natalie checked the medicine cabinet to verify that he’d gotten refills recently, so they wouldn’t have to use the ones Shoji had supplied as backups).

Per the information they’d been given, the target, a man probably in his thirties with prematurely balding hair and a five o’clock shadow on his broad face, eventually stumbled into the bathroom, too groggy from exhaustion to notice them at first.

His head quickly cleared when a knife was held against his throat.

“Be quiet if you want your wife and daughter to live,” Natalie whispered, her gloved left hand held over his mouth while Nathaniel blocked the partially open door. “You listen to everything we tell you and they won’t be touched. You fight us or do anything to wake them up? This goes from a staged suicide to a tragic break-in gone wrong, do you understand?”

They figured there was no point in lying to the target, in giving him false hope, so best to have him on board right away.

It seemed he had a clue how deep he was in it because after a couple seconds, he nodded. When Natalie eased her hand away from his mouth (but not the knife), he whispered, “Moriyama?”.

“Yes, and I believe you’ve an idea of how powerful they are. There’s no getting out of this.”

For a moment, it looked as if the man would try anyway, believed that he could overpower two ‘kids’; he tensed up and eyed Nathaniel as if he could rush past him… and then Natalie shifted the knife to right beneath his chin and Nathaniel stepped back as if to go into the hallway.

“You’re just… could you really hurt them?” the man asked. “Hurt a child?”

“You’re not the only one with people to protect,” Nathaniel answered as he thought about Natalie, Jean and even Kevin. “Besides, if we don’t do it, others will.” Shoji would come looking for them after a certain point in time.

That took the fight out of the target; he slumped in Natalie’s hold and allowed them to lead him out of the bathroom, his reasons for going in there forgotten. They went downstairs to the office (where he sometimes worked late at night, per the information Stuart had handed over); he wasn’t surprised when they sat him down in front of the laptop on the desk.

“Delete everything to do with the Moriyamas,” Natalie instructed as she handed over her USB drive. “ _Everything_. If you fail to do that, we’ll be sent back for your wife and child.”

“I’ve spent over a year on this, it was supposed to be my big break,” he said even as he logged on. “It would have led-” He laughed, the sound more defeated than amused.

Natalie glanced at Nathaniel before she set her backpack on the desk. “Delete everything, and we’ll give you this.” She reached into her backpack for the money from their emergency fund and set it on the desk. “Tell us where to hide it, someplace your wife will find it but not the police if they do a cursory search.”

The man paused in typing to gape at the money. “But… this is a trick, isn’t it?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “You willingly delete the files and save us the effort of having to track it all down, your family gets this.” He picked up the money. “Tell me where to put it.”

“This is… I’m coming with you.” When Natalie opened her mouth to object, the target shook his head. “I’ll show you were to put it, and as long as you’re not lying, I’ll go along with it.” That time his laughter had a tinge of mania to it. “Why not? I’m dead anyway, but if Laura will be okay… it’s okay.”

He led them to the kitchen and had them put the money in a large Ziploc bag, along with a note that the money was from him, then stash it in a large container that was running low on flour. “She stress-bakes,” he murmured. “She should find it soon enough.”

Nathaniel had never seen his mother bake, only Natalie, and Mary would have thrown a party (with cakes from a bakery) if Nathan had died before her.

That done, the target held up his end of the bargain and allowed all files with any information on the Moriyamas to be deleted from his laptop, phone and cloud storage. They checked his tablet as well, but found nothing (he’d restricted it to certain devices, not that it had saved him in the end from being found out), and he swore that he hadn’t told his wife anything.

Once they verified that everything had been wiped, Natalie pulled the bottle of medication she’d grabbed upstairs from her pocket and set it on the desk, along with a bottle of water. They watched the target as he swallowed all the pills (three months’ worth of a prescription), as he gradually passed into unconsciousness, as he spasmed in the chair then slumped onto the desk, and as he eventually died.

They remained another half an hour after that, mindful of the wife or daughter waking up, removed any trace of their presence then left the house.

Nathaniel was tired and not looking forward to another photo shoot in a few hours, but they would be able to go shopping (it would make Natalie happy) and then out to dinner (which would make Jean happy). As he and his sister walked away from the target’s house, he pushed aside what he’d just done, intent on what lay ahead, on being with his family.

The people who mattered to him, the ones he would do anything to keep safe and happy.

_Anything_.

*******

Andrew batted Nicky’s hand away from the radio for the fifth time. “Aw come on, can’t we listen to something cheerful? What is it with you and this emo stuff?”

“I’ll play Britney Spears at your funeral,” Andrew promised as he turned onto the main road heading to campus.

“You would? I mean, that’s not funny,” Nicky complained while Aaron chortled in the back seat. “It’s gonna be so good to deal with people other than you two emotionally stunted assholes.”

“And the Foxes,” Aaron reminded their cousin. “You get to catch up with your pals Gordon, Duncan and Reyes.”

Nicky grimaced as he sunk back in the passenger seat. “Yeah, well, at least Mazzio flunked out, that’s one homophobic asshole gone.” Then he perked up and smiled. “Maybe Day’s still around, he’s pretty hot.”

“We’re not supposed to talk about him, and why would a Raven want to stick around this loser place?”

“True,” Nicky said after a moment’s reflection. “But he came to Coach for help for a reason, and he seemed pretty out of it back on the bus. There’s been no word of him returning to Edgar Allan.”

No, which was why Andrew was going to drop his brother and cousin off at Fox Tower then go pay a certain coach a visit; since Duncan and Reyes had planned to crash with Abby over the holiday break, he doubted she had the space for a wounded Raven.

Aaron and Nicky took the bags and a few other items they’d brought back from Columbia up to their suite; Andrew turned around in the mostly empty parking lot and drove to Wymack’s apartment near campus. There weren’t many parked cars there, either, which made the supped-up black Mercedes sedan with dark tinted windows stand out _just_ a little.

He gazed at it for a few seconds, at the shadowy figure behind the wheel, then clicked his tongue and got out of the GS to go into the apartment building. He lit a cigarette in the elevator despite the ‘no smoking’ sign as he went up to the top floor, and once at Wymack’s door, decided to break in instead of knocking.

Which was how he ended up with a knife at his throat, a knife wielded by one Nathaniel Wesninski.

Hmm, perhaps he should break into the old man’s apartment more often.

“What the- Andrew? Kid, put away the knife, that’s my goalie!”

Nathaniel continued to hold the blade against Andrew’s throat, his too-pretty face expressionless while Andrew gazed back without emotion and raised the cigarette to his lips to inhale. That made a slight smile appear on Nathaniel’s lips, the full bottom one curving in a much-too appealing way for Andrew’s liking.

“Wesninski!”

“Nat, it’s all right.”

Nathaniel’s smile deepened at the sound of his sister’s quiet voice. “Interesting habit there,” he directed at Andrew as he lowered the knife and stepped away.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” Andrew drawled after he blew out smoke; he noticed that along with Nathaniel and Natalie, that Jean Moreau was present also, seated near Kevin Day. “Quite the flock of birdies, hmm?”

“Unkindness of ravens,” Nathaniel corrected as he went to stand next to his sister. “We’re just passing through.”

“They came to see Kevin and bring him a few things,” Wymack said as he glanced around the crowded apartment. “Since he’ll be staying here.”

“Oh really?” Andrew looked at Kevin, who sat hunched over his casted left hand but otherwise seemed relaxed in the presence of his teammates (former teammates?), then at Nathaniel, who continued to give Andrew that slight, almost secretive smile. “I would think you’d be here to take your #2 home.”

“You’d be wrong. We want the best for Kevin, and he says he’s fine here.”

As far as Andrew could tell, Nathaniel didn’t sound as if he was lying; Kevin blushed a little and ducked his head, while Wymack beamed like an idiot at the words. While he watched, Nathaniel, Natalie and Jean went over to carefully hug Kevin and murmur a few words in Japanese; Kevin didn’t appear happy when it was clear they were preparing to leave, his expression now anxious, but Natalie brushed her hand along his right shoulder and spoke to him for a minute. When Nathaniel headed for the door, Andrew rushed past Moreau and shoved the younger man into the hallway then slammed the door shut behind them.

Something was shouted at him in French and Nathaniel spun around quickly, the knife once more out in his right hand, but Andrew held up his own and shook his head. “ _I want to talk_ ,” he said in German.

Moreau burst into the hallway, his expression furious and hands reaching for Andrew, yet Nathaniel waved his partner aside and said something in French. The two argued for a moment until Moreau settled down, his expression still murderous as he gazed at Andrew.

“Don’t touch him again,” the bastard growled out.

Andrew ignored him and focused on Nathaniel, who stood there with his left eyebrow arched as if waiting for something. “ _Why are the three of you here_?”

“ _To visit Kevin_.”

Andrew clicked his tongue in annoyance as he dropped his cigarette to the carpeted floor and ground it out. “ _The first time we met, you warned me from joining the Ravens as if I couldn’t tell that your captain’s a massive psycho. Then your sister shows up to take care of some assholes said psycho paid to hurt my family. Now you’re here at my coach’s place, the same coach your vice-captain came running to when he’s badly hurt, yet somehow that’s been kept one big secret_.” He leaned a little closer to Nathaniel, which made Moreau grunt and take a step toward them (and be waved aside by Nathaniel again). “ _Something’s going on here, and I want to make sure it won’t harm my family_.”

At first, he thought that Nathaniel wouldn’t answer, would just give him that slight smile and walk away, but then the redhead began to nibble on that full bottom lip.

“ _It’s… complicated_.”

“ _I’m a smart boy, I’m sure I can follow along_.”

Nathaniel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the black-tipped strands; while he seemed to debate what to say, Natalie left Wymack’s apartment and frowned to see the three of them in the hallway. Nathaniel shared a look with her then seemed to decide on something. “ _It’s better that you don’t know, that you’re not involved_.”

“ _Bullshit, I was involved the moment Riko tried to hurt my family_.”

_“I suppose_.” Nathaniel focused on him and motioned to the apartment behind Andrew. “ _Riko broke Kevin’s hand because he’s a jealous asshole, but that can’t be public knowledge. If you can’t guess, his family is powerful, very powerful. Not so much him and his uncle, though they can cause you and your family more than enough grief if you cross them, but the rest of it, which is where my sister and I come in because we owe our loyalty to them. We managed to get Kevin away from the Nest and arranged it so he’s not being forced to go back, but Riko… he’s not good at letting go_.”

Andrew thought of what had just been said and what _hadn’t_ been said. “ _Will there be problems for us_?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “ _Like I said, Riko’s not good at letting go_.” Each time he mentioned the asshole’s name, Natalie’s eyes narrowed.

In other words, ‘yes’. “ _So nice of you to drop a problem on our doorstep_ ,” Andrew grumbled.

“ _Kevin’s the one who wanted to come here_ ,” Nathaniel told him with an impish grin. “ _Now you get to deal with his wonderful personality_.”

For a moment, Andrew wondered why the hell his hormones were so interested in one Nathaniel Wesninski, then watched on as Nathaniel lifted the hem of his black t-shirt to slip the knife into a sheath in the small of his back (and expose a flash of _very_ toned abs) while he _winked_ at Andrew, mirth glimmering in intensely pale blue eyes. “We need to return to Edgar Allan, but we’ll keep an eye on things from there, help out when we can,” he said in English.

“Yes, we’re running late,” Natalie agreed as she gave Andrew a cool look.

“The sooner we return to civilization, the better,” Moreau said with an offended sniff as he tugged Nathaniel toward the elevator.

“One thing,” Andrew called out to their departing backs. “If anyone has to pay a visit to ‘help out’ again, make sure it’s _you_ , Wesninski,” he insisted.

The looks of outrage on Moreau’s face, of extreme displeasure on Natalie’s, and the amused grin on Nathaniel’s were to be savored for a while to come; Andrew gave them a two-finger salute in ‘goodbye’ before he went back into Wymack’s crummy abode.

Wymack sighed to see him, especially since Andrew went straight for a bottle of whiskey left on the coffee table and helped himself to it. “Really? Why the hell are you here? Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“Not feeling the love,” Andrew said once he lowered the bottle from his lips. “And isn’t that something we should be asking a certain Raven?”

“Ex-Raven,” Kevin muttered from his seat in Wymack’s beat up recliner. “I’m not going back.”

Andrew regarded him while he had another swallow of alcohol. “Because your buddies told you it’s okay?”

Kevin appeared surprised for a moment then nodded. “They… they got me out of my contract with the Ravens, I don’t owe Tetsuji anything anymore.”

But it wasn’t that simple, from the little Nathaniel had told Andrew. “What now? You going to crash on Coach’s ugly couch? Why is some big Exy star like you even here?”

“Andrew-“

He waved Wymack silent as he focused on Day. “Why, hmm? Why come to the Foxes?” It sounded as if Nathaniel and Natalie had enough resources that they could have sent Day almost everywhere, so why to a banquet where the Foxes were at? “Why swap the best team in the division for the worst?” When Kevin remained quiet, he moved toward the striker, only to find Wymack in his way. “Not now, Coach.”

“Yes now, Minyard.” Wymack gave him a stern look before he sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, this isn’t public knowledge yet, we’re trying to figure out the best time to reveal it but… Kevin’s my son.”

For a moment, the words didn’t make sense; Andrew looked back and forth between the two men and took in the faint blush on both their faces, noticed the similar jawlines and broad shoulders, how Kevin’s complexion was just a couple shades lighter than Wymack’s while Kayleigh Day had pale skin. Then he clicked his tongue. “If this is you fishing for a Father’s day gift, you’re out of luck.”

Wymack gazed at him in disbelief while Kevin seemed to struggle over what exactly he should feel. “ _What_? I don’t go around telling people about the times I have unprotected sex,” Andrew said, his nose wrinkled slightly in distaste as he thought about _Wymack_ having sex.

“Why did I think it would be a good idea to recruit you?” Wymack grumbled as if talking to himself while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kevin came to me for help, which I’d have given him regardless since he’s Kayleigh’s son. Him being mine?” Something protective came over Wymack’s face as he glanced at Kevin. “I’m not letting those bastards hurt him again. We’ll make an announcement soon about him leaving the Ravens now that his friends gave the all-clear about his contract, and he’s going to help me coach until his hand heals.”

Someone was doing a bit of wishful thinking there, considering the mess Andrew had seen on the bus at the Winter banquet; something must have shown on his face when he glanced at Kevin, because the striker glared and stood up. “I’m going to join the Foxes next season,” he said with defiance as he held up his casted left hand. “Natalie did a good job of setting the bones, so Abby said it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I’ll be back on the court soon enough, and I’ll show you Foxes how a _real_ team plays.”

If Andrew was the laughing type, he’d be doubled over at that ridiculous statement. As it was…. “You going to be able to do all that while Riko’s coming after you?”

That knocked the wind out of someone’s sails quickly enough. Kevin paled as he cradled his injured hand against his chest and Wymack was quick to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “I… I’m not going to let him tear me down anymore,” Kevin mumbled.

Hmm, that sure sounded confident, Andrew mused as he had more whiskey. When the bottle was empty, he threw it aside and leaned toward Kevin while Wymack cursed. “This is how it’s going to be. I’ll help with your little Raven problem, will keep your ex-partner and ex-coach away from you, and in return you tell me _everything_ you know about the Moriyamas, will hold nothing back.” Because three times now he’d been somewhat involved in Moriyama bullshit, and Nathaniel hadn’t properly explained _why_.

He wanted information, wanted to know how this might come back to bite him in the ass or hurt his family, wanted to know why two collegiate Exy players possessed such a deadly air (and quick hands with knives).

Kevin regarded him for several seconds before he nodded. “You want… you want to know everything now?”

“Next time,” Andrew said as he stepped back, his packet of cigarettes in hand. “I’ll leave you to the family bonding stuff for now.” He waved his right hand, cigarette held between two fingers, in the air. “Braiding each other’s hair, comparing tattoos, seeing who has the biggest Exy boner, whatever.”

Wymack groaned as he rubbed his face with his palms. “Minyard… go. Just… _go_.

For once, Andrew did as he told (and picked up another opened bottle of alcohol to take with him), feeling as if something had been accomplished that day.

Maybe the upcoming semester wouldn’t be too boring.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Neil/Nathaniel and Andrew interaction!!!! At last!!! (well, other than the recruiting scene). Promise for more!!! And I'm sure you can figure out what will happen next season....
> 
> I'm also sure you can figure out that Renee/Natalie isn't happy about this. *coughschop-chopcoughs*
> 
> I also think you can figure out that Andrew isn't going to let the whole 'you forgot to use birth control' thing drop with Wymack.
> 
> Or Neil/Nathaniel with Jean's 'blond Exy player' thing (hint, it's not just blonds).
> 
> Hmm... so many buttons to push, so little time.
> 
> Ahem. So, I've this fic, a new MDZS fic, I'm getting back into the groove for the Ghost in You fic... hopefully it'll mean that stuff will be posted, whenever. *fingers crossed* Just as long as the meds work/life isn't being a horrible bitch/I have time to write.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated.


	5. Darkside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if picking up on the fact that Riko wasn’t a favorite topic of theirs, Mat changed the subject. “Well, this should be an easy job for you two for once. All you have to do is stand around and look threatening, which somehow you manage to do even though you both could use a good meal or two, make a few threats and back ‘em up now and then.”  
> Nathaniel flashed a cheeky grin to Natalie as he put all the food wrappers back into the bag. “Lee’s good at the threat part. She has this thing where she gives a looong synopsis of War and Peace then quizzes them on character motivation.”  
> Mat gasped in an exaggerated manner. “That is just mean! Your sister is terrifying, lobo.”  
> “I know.” Nathaniel sounded proud of that fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back. Sorry for the wait, as usual life has been 'interesting', but here's a new chapter at last. A chapter which I think some people may like.  
> Ah, warning about violence in regards to torture (mild). Though there is a bit of graphic details of possible torture, just a little. One paragraph. Reach out to me if you have any questions (nekojitachan on tumblr).

*******

Mat turned around to face Natalie and Nathaniel after they settled in the back of the Porsche SUV, a displeased frown on his face as he looked Nathaniel up and down. “Do you feed him enough?” he asked as he tossed back a large paper bag filled with something that smelled delicious. “He’s still so scrawny.”

Natalie rolled her eyes at the familiar accusation while her brother opened the bag to reveal several wrapped breakfast burritos. “Yes, I do, he burns it off with all the running he does,” she explained _yet_ again, then smiled when Nathaniel handed her a couple egg and chorizo burritos – her favorite.

“She’s always nagging me to eat my vegetables,” he complained before he bit into a burrito. “And thanks, we didn’t have time to grab anything this morning.”

“Yeah, Keiichi let me know you barely made your flight.” Mat blasted his horn at a cab who tried to cut him off as he merged into traffic. “That and I saw the game last night, it was pretty brutal.”

That was one way to describe it; Natalie was sore from the Black Bears striker who decided to take her on inside her goal. He’d been red carded for the foul, as had several other of his teammates for their rough play during the game, but she’d still taken a good hit to her left side.

“The bastards know that Riko’s due back on court soon so they threw everything at us while they could,” Nathaniel sneered as he unwrapped another burrito. “As if we need the asshole to win a game.”

“Speaking of which, how much longer is he gonna be ‘sick’?”

“He’ll be in the next game.”

Personally, Natalie thought that Riko should be benched the rest of the season for what he’d done to Kevin, but they probably should be thankful that Tetsuji had ‘punished’ his nephew for so long. Not that Riko showed an ounce of repentance for nearly maiming Kevin, just outrage that Kevin had left the Ravens (had left _him_ ).

As if picking up on the fact that Riko wasn’t a favorite topic of theirs, Mat changed the subject. “Well, this should be an easy job for you two for once. All you have to do is stand around and look threatening, which somehow you manage to do even though you both could use a good meal or two, make a few threats and back ‘em up now and then.”

Nathaniel flashed a cheeky grin to Natalie as he put all the food wrappers back into the bag. “Lee’s good at the threat part. She has this thing where she gives a _looong_ synopsis of War and Peace then quizzes them on character motivation.”

Mat gasped in an exaggerated manner. “That is just _mean_! Your sister is terrifying, lobo.”

“I know.” Nathaniel sounded proud of that fact.

Natalie rolled her eyes at their silliness. “I’d work my way up to it, try flaying them alive first.”

“Still, some lines, fénix, some lines….”

Mat drove them to a non-descript bar which was closed during the day on the outskirts of Charlotte so they could change before they headed off to ‘work’; Natalie was happy to see Val there and gave the young woman a hug before she headed into the ladies’ room (thankfully clean) so she could remove the wig and makeup she’d worn to travel ‘incognito’ to North Carolina, then dressed in an outfit that was suitable for her rank as one of Kengo’s (and Ichirou’s) most trusted enforcers. The tight black pants, knee-high black leather boots, black silk shirt with the open back which revealed her sunbird tattoo and red bralette with the multiple straps wasn’t her favorite outfit, but garnished nods of approval from Mat and Val.

Nathaniel wore sleek black dress pants that were tailored perfectly for his long legs, a dress shirt the same color as his pale blue eyes, a tight black leather vest with the same design as his okami tattoo stitched onto it and black ankle boots. He appeared older than his eighteen years, especially when the cruel smile he’d learned from Nathan turned up the corners of his lips and the lack of emotion which chilled his eyes an even icier hue.

“They’re gonna shit themselves when they see you,” Mat murmured, his tone almost reverent. “This won’t take long at all.”

“I hope not, because Jean’s gonna bitch about being stuck doing all the work for our art project if I don’t get back soon,” Nathaniel complained as he readjusted the sheath on his left forearm.

Natalie smiled at the thought of her brother and friend squabbling over their class assignment, a happy bit of ‘normalcy’, before she went off to torture people for the Moriyamas.

They drove to a farm south of Charlotte, then went into a large barn where more of Ibanez’s people were gathered around three young men who were restrained to metal chairs. Three young men who’d thought they could cheat the crime lord of much of the southeastern area out of his owed due.

She didn’t feel sorry for them because she’d been taught better when she was a member of the Bloodhounds; you obeyed the rules or you paid the price.

It was time for the three to pay up.

One of them began to pray out loud upon seeing her and Nathaniel walk in with Mat and Val, another shook his head back and forth while the third attempted a stoic façade and failed. They knew what it meant when Natalie and her brother appeared; they were the Moriyamas’ favored enforcers despite their youth, were Wesninski-trained, were known to carry out every order without fail.

If they were here then it was a death sentence for the men.

Ibanez’s man in charge of Charlotte, Reggie Defoe, nodded to them in respectful acknowledgement before he stepped toward the three men who used to sell drugs for him, his expression blank. “Y’all dumb fucks are smart enough at least to know who they are. Now, are y’all gonna cooperate with me and tell me where y’all stashed my stuff and the money y’all skimmed from me, or do I have to hand y’all over to them?” he asked, his deep voice a smooth, Southern drawl that made him sound polite even as he made threats.

When the young man (teenager, really) in the middle with the bleached hair opened his mouth then shut it quickly, Reggie put the cigarette he’d been holding between his fingers out on the man’s forehead, prompting a strangled scream. “I don’t hear y’all talking.”

“Maybe you should let us have them for a while,” Nathaniel called out as he began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, his father’s smile on his face. “What do you think, Lee? Fingers or toes first?”

She cocked her head to the side as she unsheathed the knife tucked into her left boot. “Let’s see who can flay the most skin off in one piece.”

The one on the left began to pray even louder.

“Hmm, I won last time.” Nathaniel’s smile became even more disturbing as he unsheathed a knife as well.

“But I’ve been practicing.” On apples, but no one else needed to know that.

All it took was them moving forward before the praying one broke and began talking; she caught Mat scowling as he handed a small wad of money to a smirking Val while Reggie and some of his people prodded the young men for information. Every now and then Natalie and her brother had to make more threats, but for once they didn’t have to do any ‘real’ work.

She probably should be worried that she had such a fearful reputation, but couldn’t be bothered too much when it was useful for days like this.

Mat took them back to the bar to change into their travel clothes once Reggie felt he had all the information he needed from his former drug dealers, and from there they headed to the airport.

“ _Jean says that the asshole snake is already being worse than usual now that he’s back to practice_ ,” Nathaniel muttered as he checked his phone for messages.

“ _Nice to see that someone learns from his mistakes_.”

“ _Yeah, he’s raving about how we can’t let Kevin’s ‘defection’ affect us or make the team appear weak_.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes at that bit of nonsense. “ _Maybe he shouldn’t have taken a racquet to his partner’s hand, then_.”

Natalie glanced at Mat, but he was busy cursing at a minivan driving too slow for his tastes (which was almost every vehicle on the road). “ _We’ll manage, we always do. We’ve won the last few games without either of them_.”

“ _Yeah, I think that’s part of his problem, no one missed him and_ -“ Nathaniel frowned as a new text came through on his phone, which made Natalie worry that something was wrong with Jean. “ _Andrew said that someone anonymously called the police late last night to report a meth lab in the Fox Tower, which meant that everyone was evacuated as they searched the building. He’s not happy right now_.”

“ _They did- wait, why is he telling **you** this_?” Natalie demanded to know as she pressed her fingers to her forehead, where she swore she felt a tension headache forming.

Nathaniel shrugged as he typed back a reply. “ _He got my number from Kevin and complains when our fans stir up trouble on campus. We need to do something about that, especially if they’ve escalated things this far_.” He looked up at her while he nibbled on his bottom lip. “ _I know we keep asking the fans to behave, but this is taking things too far. I think we can get Ichirou to put some pressure on Tetsuji now to rein the asshole snake in_.”

“ _We’ll discuss it later. Do you really think it’s a good idea to talk to someone like him_?”

She knew right away that was the wrong thing to say to her brother when his expression grew impassive and his back stiffened. “ _What’s wrong with me talking to him? I’m not a child anymore, Lee_.”

No, but he was a very attractive young man – a very attractive young man whom Andrew Minyard had noticed, and _not_ for his Exy skills. “ _I just don’t want him to bother you_ ,” she said in a softer tone as she tucked back a stray lock of hair that had slipped from beneath his wig. “ _We can give him Jean’s number instead if that’s the case_.”

Nathaniel smiled at the joke, all signs of temper gone. “ _That might be amusing to watch, but no, it’s good. He’s somewhat funny with his griping_.”

“ _As long as he’s not bothering you_.”

“ _He’s not, and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s not a Raven or… you know. Not that we talk much_.”

Not a Raven or yakuza/gang member, Nathaniel meant; Natalie still wasn’t pleased with Andrew Minyard, but she had to admit that they lived in a very insular world and she didn’t see that changing any time soon. She had two more full years at Edgar Allan and then would join a professional team of Kengo’s choosing, with Jean following a year after that, leaving Nathaniel alone for his last year at university. Perhaps they would all be together on the same team, but if Kengo could make more money and connections off them being on separate ones, then he’d have them sign those contracts in a heartbeat.

They were nothing but commodities to the Moriyamas.

Maybe it was a good thing, Nathaniel finding a friend (a _friend_ ) who knew some of the truth about him but wasn’t connected to the Moriyamas. Someone he could reach out to when left alone in the Nest or wherever Kengo sent him once he’d graduated.

And if Minyard proved untrustworthy?

Well, Natalie preferred to deal with him herself, but La Fênix had plenty of people willing to do something to earn a favor that the Moriyamas didn’t have to know about.

Nathaniel was her responsibility, had been entrusted to her by Mary, and she wouldn’t fail that duty. Not when it was partially her fault that they (that _Nathaniel_ ) had ended up in the Moriyamas’ hands, after all.

Mat finished honking his horn at a truck he’d just passed and glanced at them through the rear-view mirror. “You two hungry? Want me to stop somewhere before we return to the airport?”

Nathaniel grinned as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the back of the passenger seat and spoke in Spanish, something that made Mat grin and nod quickly. She smiled and left their late lunch order to her brother, who always kept her tastes in mind, amazed at his linguistic ability.

Besides, Mat knew the best places to eat no matter where they were in the South, and delighted in feeding Nathaniel as if he was his precious little brother. She had no doubt they’d end up full of delicious food before they returned to Edgar Allan.

Edgar Allan and an increasingly unstable Riko.

*******

Andrew paid close attention to Kevin as they entered the house, waiting to see if the young man went straight to the cabinet in the kitchen which contained the liquor bottles, and clicked his tongue when all Kevin did, after shrugging off his lightweight black denim jacket, was fetch a bottle of water from the fridge. Meanwhile, Aaron and Nicky staggered drunkenly to their respective bedrooms (with the occasional knock into a wall and stumble on the stairs).

For himself, Andrew fetched a pint of chocolate cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and a spoon, then sat down at the kitchen table. “Is there vodka in that bottle?”

Kevin’s cheeks took on a tinge of pink as he shook his head. “No!”

“A fair question,” Andrew said as he flipped off the lid of the pint. “Couple weeks ago, you would be drinking a fifth of vodka right about now if you weren’t carried in from the club.”

The color darkened as Kevin sat down at the table and fiddled with the label on the bottle. “Yeah, well… it was a bit rough, adjusting to….” He held up his scarred left hand with the fading red lines on the back. "The Foxes crashing and burning in the first round didn’t help, either.”

If Kevin had any intelligence at all, he would know better than to refer to _that time_ ; fortunately for him, he quickly moved on.

“Then Riko playing again and trash-talking me, the stuff happening on campus and- it was tough.” Kevin grimaced as he stared at the bottle. “One night I accidentally drunk-texted Nat and then….” He huffed as he looked up at Andrew. “He, Lee and Jean tore me apart over it. Jean mocked the shit out of me while Nat ripped me a new one, said he didn’t argue for me to Kengo for me to be an utter moron, and Lee said if I ever drank so much again that she’d use my body as a practice dummy for her and Nat’s next knife throwing session.” He shuddered for a couple seconds. “She was serious – actually, all of them were.”

Interesting. “So you let three people bully you into semi-sobriety.” The last two weeks, Kevin had joined in when they went to Eden’s, but he’d skipped the cracker dust and stuck to only a few shots. Now Andrew understood why.

“You don’t know Nat and Lee, not really.”

Oh, Andrew knew a little, thanks to his deal with Kevin. He knew that ‘Nat’ was the son of Nathan Wesninski, the Butcher of Baltimore, who should have been charged with much, _much_ more before being thrown in prison. He knew that ‘Lee’ had spent time in a very nasty gang out in Detroit before somehow ending up as Nathan’s foster child (even Kevin wasn’t sure how, exactly), trained to be one of his trusted officers, before his wife Mary had argued for her to join Nathaniel at the Nest to watch over her darling son. He knew that they’d been given to Tetsuji as if objects, only for the main branch to step in to snatch them away, to see their value as killing machines as well as Exy players.

He knew that they’d taken Jean Moreau, another ‘object’, under their wing, but as much as they’d tried, they couldn’t do the same for Kevin because he wasn’t quite a belonging. That he’d stupidly ignored the help they’d extended over the years until it was too late.

Because he never thought Riko would turn on him to such a degree.

(One never noticed how hot the pot had become until it was too late, the heat steadily growing degree by degree over time.)

“Why are you so afraid of them when you grew up with a psycho as your partner?” Andrew asked, curious despite himself.

Kevin frowned as he set the bottle on the table. “Afraid? It’s not… I’m not….” He sighed as he seemed to put his thoughts together. “I trust them, I do. Lee and Nat have always tried to help me.” A faint laugh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his left hand. “They _have_ helped me. It’s just-“ His frown deepened as he gazed at Andrew. “When we first met, Nat was so tiny that I couldn’t believe he was a backliner, and Lee wasn’t much bigger even though she was a few years older. Nat was incredible on court, it was easy to see why the Mah- ah, why Tetsuji was interested in him, and while Lee was still rough as a goalie, she was so _determined_. The two of them together? They _clicked_ despite Lee’s inexperience, it was no wonder Tetsuji took her on and made her Perfect Court.”

A glaze came over Kevin’s bright green eyes as they lost focus. “We were excited about Nat joining us, about having someone of his skill to play against, and even Lee didn’t seem too bad. Then we went up to the East Tower and had to watch Nathan Wesninski chop apart some man – and I mean it, he _chopped him to pieces_ ,” Kevin stressed while he shivered. “Riko and I had to stand there as some poor guy was broken into… oh god, it was _horrible_ ,” Kevin gasped as he rubbed his face with his left hand. “We… we were sick to our stomachs and we cried and we still had to watch until it was done!”

After sniffling a few times, he looked at Andrew. “And through it all? Nat and Lee just _stood there_. They… it wasn’t like they blanked it out because they followed what Nathan was doing, would turn their heads and when he looked at them would nod to show they were paying attention, would murmur from time to time, but they didn’t react in any way as if it bothered them. They acted as if it was normal, and then they just walked away….” Kevin closed his eyes and shook his head. “I think Riko hated them for it, to be honest. He was Kengo’s son and broke down while they watched on as if it was _nothing_. That’s when he began to change.”

Andrew considered that as he swallowed a scoop of ice cream. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

Nathaniel would have been around ten, Natalie fifteen or sixteen. Andrew wasn’t sure he’d have been so uncaring at Nathaniel’s age, but he’d been able to kill Tilda at sixteen. It was a matter of degrees, he supposed.

One child was raised by a serial killer, one subjected to life in a gang, another to systematic abuse.

Well, to be honest, he supposed all of them were subjected to systematic abuse, just different kinds.

Nathaniel and Natalie had been formally trained to kill, while Andrew was more of a ‘self-taught’ type.

No wonder Natalie didn’t think he was good enough for her dear brother.

“So all it takes for you to listen is promising bodily harm? I’ll have to remember that.” Andrew said after he licked the spoon clean.

Kevin grew flustered and squirmed in his seat. “That’s not… you’re missing the point here. Lee swore to castrate anyone who tried to touch her or Nat against their will, and Nat would mess with Riko despite knowing how much trouble it would get him in – _before_ the main branch stepped in for him and Lee. They don’t care about consequences when they feel something important is at stake.”

Nice to know someone wasn’t willing to let Tetsuji and Riko get away with everything back at Castle Evermore, though Andrew had seen signs of that himself with how Riko had been forced to chastise his out of control fans at last in the past couple weeks. “Just be aware that they’re not the only ones who’ll use you for target practice if you start giving me trouble.”

Kevin muttered something in Japanese as he got up from the table and stalked away, but Andrew felt as if it had been a worthwhile conversation; he’d learned more about Nathaniel and Natalie and how to bring Kevin to heel, if necessary (to get him to stop harping about weekend Exy practices and kale smoothies).

There wasn’t much left of the spring semester, but the Foxes still had practice (at least Duncan and his homophobic, asshole buddies – except Gordon – no longer attended since they were graduating) even though they’d washed out in the first round of the playoff season. Wymack and Wilds had become unbearable once Kevin had signed with the team as a starting striker, having managed to learn to play with his right hand.

Andrew foresaw another annoying season ahead.

They were back at Eden’s, where he was stuck dealing with an anxious Kevin; for once it had nothing to do with Riko or the Ravens, but news about their new recruit for the upcoming season.

“What if she, uhm, relapses again? If they don’t clear her or something?”

Andrew tossed back a shot of whiskey and wondered why Kevin thought he gave a damn about one Janie Smalls and her problems. “Coach would have a backup if he thought she couldn’t make it.” He might be a foolish bleeding heart, but he wouldn’t risk the Foxes’ season by not having enough players.

Though he could have done better than to recruit someone with suicidal tendencies; if she hadn’t called her therapist, the Foxes would be scrambling for a freshman striker rather late in the season. As it was, she’d miss out on the first two weeks of summer training….

Hmm, Andrew wondered if he could pull off something similar and get some quiet time to himself, then realized that Bee would never fall for it.

He tuned back in to find that Kevin had moved on to bitching about how Riko had played in the Ravens’ latest game and how they were going to win the division title again when the Trojans deserved it. Bored of hearing that old story yet again, he let his attention drift once more as he lit a cigarette, his gaze wandering around the crowded club.

“-going to have to practice harder if we want to get anywhere next year. I mean, Penn State annihilated you guys and the Trojans are even better! I’ll talk to Coach and-“

Andrew let the Exy addict babble on as he caught sight of someone who seemed oddly familiar and shifted to the left to get a better look at him; the hair was black and shaggy, the eyes dark and rimmed with kohl, the cheek bereft of a numbered tattoo but….

“Hey, are you going for another round?”

Andrew ignored Kevin as he left the table, intent on tracking down the lean figure dressed in tight black leather pants and a clingy black shirt with sheer mesh panels which allowed tantalizing glimpses of a colorful tattoo on the young man’s back. Someone tried to grab the young man by the left arm, but he snatched at the offending hand in mid-air and twisted it about until the stranger grimaced in pain and backed off once his hand was released.

It hadn’t even slowed him down.

Andrew caught up to him when he paused at the junction where the dance floor ended and the long ‘L’ shaped bar began; he appeared to be searching for someone. Ollie, one of the regulars who had a thing for submissive ‘twinks’, somehow thought it was a good idea to approach the young man, but backed away when Andrew gave him a warning stare.

“ _Trying out a new look_ ,” Andrew called out in German, voice pitched to be heard over the loud dance music.

Nathaniel Wesninski spun around to face him, expression confused for a moment before his face lit up with a slight but true smile. “ _You don’t work here anymore_.”

Nathaniel was curious as to why _Andrew_ was here? “ _No, but they let us in and treat us well as ex-staff_ ,” he said as he motioned for the Raven to follow him to a hallway leading to the storeroom and emergency exit, where it was a bit quieter and less busy. “ _What are **you** doing here_?”

“ _Eh, it’s work_.” Nathaniel grimaced as he tugged on the front of his shirt; the sleeves were loose so he probably was wearing his wrist sheathes, and his black ankle boots had thick enough soles to give him another couple inches of height. “ _It’s best you don’t know more than that_.”

Meaning main branch stuff. “ _Your sister here, too_?”

“ _Yes. You here alone? You said ‘let us in’_.”

Andrew shook his head, unwilling to look away from Nathaniel dressed in that outfit. “ _Aaron, Nicky and Kevin are here, too_.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel nibbled on his full bottom lip as he glanced around. _“I hope Kevin’s not drinking too much, Lee’s serious about beating some sense into him if he keeps doing that, especially if he’s going to be playing again_.”

“ _He’s being good_ ,” Andrew said. “ _What about Riko_?”

Nathaniel sighed and went to run his hands through his hair before he thought better of it (seemed to remember about what probably was a wig). “ ** _Not_** _being good. The Nest… it’s not a nice place to be, these days_.”

“ _Was it ever_?” Kevin had told Andrew about the Ravens’ ‘home’ and he didn’t think much of it.

“ _It wasn’t quite this bad_ ,” Nathaniel admitted with a sad smile. “ _I’m afraid he’s not going to stop until all the Ravens are as broken as him_.”

“ _And what about_ -“ Andrew paused when Nathaniel stiffened as he pressed against the wall as if to make himself less noticeable. “ _What is it_?”

“ _Someone who shouldn’t be here_ ,” Nathaniel murmured.

Ah. It looked as if that ‘someone’ was headed toward them. “ _Trust me_?” Andrew asked as he pressed closer.

Nathaniel had just breathed out ‘yes’ before he bridged the space between them to push the redhead even more against the wall, his left arm next to Nathaniel’s head and right hand on his chin to tug him down for a ‘kiss’. Yet all he did was nuzzle his nose along the Raven’s smooth cheek and temple, unwilling to take that ‘yes’ too far even as Nathaniel’s breath hitched and he slumped further down.

(Even though a part of Andrew would greatly enjoy it if that ‘yes’ had been real, if they were in the storeroom and he could go down on his knees and-)

The man, dressed in black with a knee-length leather coat despite the heat of the club, murmured ‘pardon me’ with a northern accent as he walked past them to check the storeroom quickly then went out the emergency exit; as soon as he was gone, Andrew pulled away. He noticed the faint blush to Nathaniel’s cheeks, the way he stared at Andrew’s lips, and wondered if he might not get a real ‘yes’ one day after all.

However, before he could say anything, Nathaniel pulled out his phone and started texting. “ _I have to let Lee know about this. Tell Kev I said ‘hi’_.” He flashed Andrew a bright smile then slipped away, down the hall then out into the crowd.

For a moment, Andrew felt so frustrated that he almost went to the bar so he could drag Roland off to the storeroom for some ‘relief’, but he only went there for another round of drinks, unwilling to be so distracted if there was Moriyama stuff going down in the club (he hoped that Nathaniel and Natalie had enough sense to take care of ‘business’ away from Eden’s). Kevin gave him a curious look when he finally returned to the table, but Andrew shook his head, disinclined to explain what had happened right then (to avoid being overheard or risk Kevin running off to find his friends).

He spends the rest of the night sipping whiskey and thinking of how Nathaniel trusted him back in the hallway, how he didn’t try to reach for Andrew to either hold him or push away, that blush and hitched breath. He thought about how he hadn’t been repulsed to be so near another person, had been willing to do something so ridiculous.

(Maybe he _should_ get Kevin drunk so Nathaniel had a reason to come back.)

*******

Done with the pre-game stretches, somehow Nathaniel wasn’t surprised when Akashi told the team to continue warming up by running twelve laps – and that the ‘Perfect Court’ were to do an extra eight.

What were the odds that someone didn’t want him, Natalie or Jean available for any interviews? Not after their spoiled asshole snake of a nephew had thrown one hell of a hissy fit over how much ‘media attention’ they were given after he’d been put on a time-out because he’d done his best to cripple his own partner.

The next time Ichirou asked him if he wanted something, his answer was going to be Riko’s head on a platter.

“Ow!” He glared at Jean, who’d just smacked the back of his head. “What was that for?”

“ _I know that look, you get it about thirty seconds before pandemonium is unleashed upon the world_.”

“ _Why the hell did you take up Exy when your true calling is obviously acting, you’re such a dramatic little bitch_.”

That time he managed to avoid Jean’s swipe at his head, but not Natalie’s. “ _Ow, not you, too_!”

She gave him a look of long-suffering as she smacked a chuckling Jean as well. “ _Behave, both of you. The Trojans will be here any moment_.”

Nathaniel resumed smiling as Jean’s expression grew shuttered. “ _Ohh, you mean **Knox** will be here! You hear that, mutton-head? Your sweetie will be here soon_!”

Jean cast a pleading look Natalie’s way. “ _Why can’t you leave him in New York one day_?”

Natalie’s smile took on an impish quality as she winked at Nathaniel. “ _First, he’s clever enough to find his way back home. Second, I have to agree with him; it’s rather obvious that Knox is smitten with you and I didn’t think you minded with the way you kept bending over when he was nearby_.”

“ _I was stretching my hamstrings_.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at that nonsense. “ _Right, maybe I’d buy that the first few times, but not after the eighth time. Admit it, you like tormenting the guy_.”

“ _He’s a **Trojan**_ ,” Jean said with an offended sniff. “ _They’re like… human teddy bears_.”

“ _Hmm, Exy’s Hufflepuffs_ ,” Natalie suggested.

“ _They probably couldn’t stab anyone if their life depended on it,”_ Nathaniel sneered, then frowned when his partner and sister gazed at him with concern. “ ** _What_**?”

“ _We really do need to find you a nice, quiet hobby_ ,” Natalie insisted as she thought about yet another ridiculous hobby for him to attempt. “ _Knitting perhaps_?”

“ _Good lord, no_.” Jean shook his head with such vehemence that he stumbled for a few steps. “ ** _Needles_**.”

“ _We’ll figure something out_.”

“ _We’re discussing **Jean** and his crush on Knox_,” Nathaniel reminded the two with growing annoyance. “ _Are you going to be able to concentrate during tonight’s game or will your hamstrings be bothering you_?”

Jean gave him the finger as they cleared another lap. “ _Just because you have no interest in sex doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t immune to an attractive person_.”

“ _Then haul him off to one of the equipment closets or something for a quickie_ ,” Nathaniel said as he rolled his eyes again. “ _Rub one out together or whatever_.” That always put Jean in a good mood for a little while.

His friend nearly stumbled again, especially when Natalie nodded. “ _He’s right, if you’re interested then suggest a meetup after the game_.” At Jean’s doubtful expression, she gave him an encouraging smile. “ _I know you’re not into anyone currently on the team, and Tetsuji wants us to start right away with summer practice. Have some fun while you can_.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Jean muttered, but Nathaniel was willing to bet he’d go through with it from the way he kept glancing over at the still-empty Away side of the court, and shared a knowing look with his sister.

He didn’t understand why Jean was interested in Jeremy Knox, but as long as he enjoyed himself (and Jeremy didn’t cause him any grief)….

It wasn’t like Knox was Andrew Minyard, after all.

Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip as he thought about the goalie, about the night in the fetish bar down in Columbia. He was still confused about what had happened, if Andrew had been teasing him or just helping to hide him from Les, but Nathaniel had been oddly… energized by the young man’s close contact which had nothing to do with nearly being discovered by Houghton’s enforcer.

He wanted to see Andrew again, to find out what would happen when they were together; would he feel something again or would it be the same as if he spent time with anyone else?

He wanted to kiss Andrew….

Natalie gave him an odd look when he sighed over his confused thoughts, to which he shook his head; he had to focus on the game and dealing with Riko for the next couple hours, so pushed all thoughts of Andrew out of his mind as they finished their laps.

Tetsuji had them do an endless amount of drills after that, until Nathaniel was ready to break his racquet to make them stop. His only amusement came when the Trojans arrived, with Knox clearly anxious to catch sight of a certain mutton-headed backliner. The junior striker walked right into his team’s captain when he noticed Jean and came to a stop to stare until one of the Trojan’s goalies smacked him on the shoulder.

“ _And you haven’t even bent over yet_ ,” Nathaniel murmured. “ _Think he’ll have a heart attack then_?”

“ _Don’t do it_ ,” pleaded Natalie. “ _We need him alive to make the game interesting_.”

“ _You both are heartless demons_ ,” Jean sniffed before he stepped forward to take his turn at knocking over the cones, putting an extra flourish in his swings.

Jean was definitely dragging Knox off for a quickie after the game.

Riko returned from talking to the press and immediately started ‘critiquing’ everyone’s form (yelling at them about nothing), which made for an excruciating half hour before the start of the game. At least he won the coin toss, which put him in a better mood (better than if he’d lost) until the game began.

Karl was the starting striker with him, and it was obvious that they lacked the near perfect synchronization which Riko and Kevin shared; the rest of the Ravens had to work harder to make up for the small openings which formed from Karl not knowing exactly where Riko was out on the court or Riko being able to trust that Karl was _right there_ to back him up. Small openings which the Trojans were more than good enough to pick up on, especially after playing them two weeks ago.

The Ravens were only ahead by two points at half-time, which made for a very uncomfortable break where Riko ranted about what failures they all were and Tetsuji promised to ruin their hopes of any pro careers if they lost. The Ravens were out for blood when the game resumed, and Nathaniel wasn’t surprised when he and Jean were put back on court.

He was, though, when Tetsuji left them out there for the rest of the game.

The Trojans pushed hard, realizing that their best chance for a championship at last was within their grasp. They didn’t pull any dirty or too-rough tricks, just relied on teamwork and skill… but that was almost enough. For the first time in Nathaniel’s memory, the Ravens had to dig deep to pull off a victory, only winning by that two-point lead which they’d held on to through the second half.

The smallest point gap they’d ever held in a game, let alone a play-off game.

Nathaniel knew there would be a price to pay for that later on, but after the post-game handshake (he was bemused to notice Jean lean in to whisper something to a stunned Knox), he and Natalie hurried to their respective locker rooms to shower and change into clean clothes so they could head up to the East Tower.

Raiden waited to escort them and congratulated them on their victory. “ _Quite the exciting game_.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Natalie answered while Nathaniel wondered if Ichirou or Kengo would be upset; hopefully all they cared about was that the Ravens had won.

He was surprised not to see Kengo in the large room, and Ichirou seemed distracted for some reason; he congratulated them on the new championship then informed them that Stuart would give them the information on how’d they’d spend their week ‘break’.

Stuart pulled them aside and spoke in French to let them know that they’d be in Chicago dealing with a rival of the Moriyamas for most of that week.

“ _Does that mean Jean can’t come with us_?”

Stuart shook his head. “ _He’ll have to stay at the safehouse until we go to New York_.”

“ _That’s fine_ ,” Nathaniel reassured his uncle; he didn’t want his partner to remain at the Nest while they were gone, not with the way Riko was acting lately.

“ _Is everything all right_?”

Stuart glanced around the room before he answered Natalie’s question. “ _Just… stuff with the lord. I’ll tell you later. Be prepared to leave in the morning_.”

They were allowed to leave soon after that, for which Nathaniel was grateful for since it had been an exhausting game. He checked his phone during the elevator ride down to the Nest, and smiled while he read Andrew’s text, which stated that the Ravens sucked even though they’d won.

Natalie noticed, of course, and sighed when she caught the image of the fox wearing sunglasses with a cigarette hanging from its lips on his phone. “ _You’re still talking to him_?”

“ _Yeah, why not_?” When she remained quiet, her lips pressed together, he frowned. “ _What’s wrong with him?_ ” Why did she keep bringing this up? On the other side of the elevator, Raiden shifted about as if uncomfortable.

“ _It’s just…_.” Natalie sighed again as she toyed with a strand of hair. “ _You don’t usually talk to outsiders this much, and I still worry that he’s messing with you_.”

“ _I don’t think so_ ,” he assured her. “ _I think he likes having someone to talk to who isn’t scared away by the stuff he says, and for me… it’s nice, you know_ ,” he tried to explain yet again, “ _dealing with someone who’s not… you know_.” He glanced above them and then at Raiden.

Natalie’s expression softened as she reached out to tug on a lock of _his_ hair. “ _So you’ve said_. _Just know that if he hurts you? They’ll find **some** of his body, and only so it’ll serve as a warning to others_.”

“ _Thanks_.” Nathaniel grimaced because he knew his sister wasn’t kidding, then perked up. “ _What’ll you do to him?_ ”

She switched back to English to describe her master plan to mutilate and dismember one Andrew Minyard; Raiden paled at first, but once he realized she wasn’t talking about him or anyone else in the organization, threw in some good suggestions which she accepted with a grateful nod.

(Nathaniel thought it might be best to let Andrew know to _never_ get on his sister’s bad side.)

(Though he had to admit… he was half-tempted to see Natalie’s plan in action….)

Jean had already hooked up with Knox, cast him aside, showered and was in bed by the time Nathaniel returned. “You and your hormones done for the time being, mutton-head?” Nathaniel asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Maybe if you _had_ hormones you wouldn’t be a tiny little crow,” Jean sneered as he sat up on bed.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I seem to be able to think about more than getting off without them.” Nathaniel plopped down on his partner’s bed and made a jabbing motion at the hickey on Jean’s neck.

“Yes, you think about new ways to torment me and to murder people, _so much_ better.”

He smiled at the weariness in his friend’s voice and slumped against Jean’s bent knees. “It’s not just me, Lee came up with some great ideas tonight on what she’d do to Andrew if he ever hurt me.” He proceeded to tell Jean about them until his partner gagged and threatened to throw up on him.

“No more,” Jean pleaded as he shoved Nathaniel away. “You’re both demons in the flesh.”

“Hmm, demons you’ll be stuck with for the next few days.”

Oddly enough, Jean appeared pleased about that, though who wouldn’t want a chance to get away from Riko, Tetsuji and the Nest if possible?

“It seems to be my lot to suffer in this life,” Jean said with a mock air of misery. “But… how are things with you and Minyard?” He gave Nathaniel an intent look. “You’ve been oddly pensive since you’ve returned from Columbia.”

“Can’t I be pensive?”

The look Jean gave him at that question was offensive with its amount of disdain.

“Fine,” Nathaniel snapped as he gave his supposed best friend the finger. “I… how do you know when you like someone?”

“ _Of course you’d fall for a juvenile delinquent_ ,” Jean muttered in French as he pinched the bridge of his nose, then took a deep breath before he switched back to English. “Do you think about him a lot? Do you want to spend time with him? Do you actually want to do physical things with him – things like kissing, not Exy or murdering people,” he clarified in a rush.

Nathaniel nodded to all of it. “Why can’t I kiss him while murdering people?” He smiled when Jean groaned as if in pain. “Just kidding.” Best to concentrate on one or the other.

Jean shoved him off the bed. “Go away, I am done with you for the night.”

Some people had no sense of humor; wasn’t Jean supposed to be in a good mood after ‘getting some’?

They flew on the Moriyamas’ private jet to Chicago, where one of Stuart’s men (Nijas) drove them to the safehouse located right outside of the city. Jean was appeased with cable television, wifi and a fully stocked kitchen (including an espresso machine), which meant that he could caffeinate and entertain himself while Nathaniel, Natalie and Stuart did their ‘murder thing’.

It was nice that _someone_ got to enjoy themselves, since the rest of them spent the four days chasing down members of the South Yard gang who thought they could take over an already established territory owned by gangs affiliated to the Moriyamas and… well, make a lesson out of them.

(Some days Nathaniel didn’t know how he ever washed away all the blood.)

The three of them were given a day ‘off’ when they reached New York City, a day where a determined Jean led them to a couple small art exhibits and a cat café (where he and Natalie all but buried Nathaniel beneath purring cats until he laughed in delight). They went to small restaurants where only a few people gawked at them, able to relax and eat whatever they wanted for once (no spinach or kale in sight, almost no vegetables at all).

It was a wonderful day.

The last part of their ‘break’ was spent doing interviews and photo shoots; not exactly relaxing, but it kept Nathaniel and Natalie away from Ichirou, who was understandably tense at the moment. Stuart had explained to them back in Chicago that Kengo’s last health check-up had revealed some unfortunate news (which they weren’t to repeat to anyone else), and he would be lucky if he lasted another year.

Which meant that Ichirou had to take steps to ensure a smooth transition of power, such as wipe out as much opposition as possible (like the South Yard gang) and go through with an arranged marriage earlier than intended.

No wonder he wasn’t in the best of moods.

Nathaniel expected things to quiet down once they returned to the Nest – or at least to focus on Exy. He knew that Tetsuji and Riko would push hard to make up for Kevin’s loss, the effect of which had been obvious on the team’s performance in the last few games. The two had shortened the already brief summer break for the Ravens to one week, giving them almost no time off before training started, a training which most likely would be brutal.

He had no idea how right he was.

Tetsuji stood before the returned Ravens (with a glaring Riko at his side), his expression the disappointed one they’d seen for much of the past semester. “The last game was one of the worst I’ve seen played in this stadium, let alone for a championship title. That is unacceptable.”

“Yes, Master,” the Ravens said as one, even though the reason for their ‘poor’ performance stood at their ‘Master’s’ side.

“There _won’t_ be a repeat of it.”

“Yes, Master.”

“To ensure that, there will be changes made.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Nathaniel, you will now be a striker.”

Nathaniel could barely force the words ‘yes, Master’ past his lips (only habit enabled him to do so) as it sunk in what was being demanded of him; because Riko had driven his own partner away, Nathaniel had to step into Kevin’s place on court.

He stood there numb with disbelief as Tetsuji described the new training regime, and only moved when the rest of the team did; Nakamori handed him his new striker racquet so he could practice drills with it.

In theory, Nathaniel knew what to do as a striker; he’d been playing Exy for twelve years, had taken part in informal scrimmages where he’d acted as a striker or a dealer. It was just… he was used to having the goal at his back, to working with Jean, to being _defense_. Now he had to think offensively, to leave Jean behind and focus on the away goal.

He had to cooperate more with _Riko_ , the asshole snake.

At least Tetsuji wasn’t forcing him to be the asshole’s new partner, just reassigning him a new position since he felt that none of the other strikers knew Riko well enough to synch with him like Kevin had. No, the two bastards still held out hope that Kevin would come crawling back eventually, were in fact plotting something to make that happen.

Since it was supposed a secret, Nathaniel playing both offense and defense (he had the sneaking suspicion that he better get used to playing entire games), he couldn’t say anything to Andrew other than to remain on guard for whatever Riko had in store for Kevin. He would do his best to mitigate it on his end… _if_ he could.

Andrew texted back that he was a lazy bastard with no real work ethic.

Nathaniel texted that the insult would mean something if it came from someone who hadn’t confessed to sleeping for the past fifteen hours.

They spent the next four days insulting each other, which made Jean mutter about Nathaniel’s pitiful taste in men and Natalie ask if it was time to put plan ‘chop-chop’ into play.

The stress might be getting to all of them, especially with the rookie Ravens arriving, Ichirou handing out assignments every few days, and Tetsuji lashing out with his cane as if he thought that the more bruises they had, the better they’d play.

(Nathaniel wondered if there was a way to convince his sister that both Tetsuji and Riko had somehow broken his heart – as cringeworthy as it was to think of such a thing, it would be worth it for her to ‘chop-chop’ the two of them.)

He thought things couldn’t get any more out of hand that summer, only to be proven wrong when he found out about what Tetsuji (and Riko) had arranged with the ERC.

*******

“Are we done yet? Tell me we’re done,” Nicky pleaded as he slumped forward and used his racquet for support. “I can’t take much more than this.”

“Says the person who can spend hours on the dance floor,” Kevin argued, even as he tugged off his helmet. “You better be back in shape soon for training.”

Nicky sneered as he stood up. “I am made for finer things in life than- oof!” He doubled over from Andrew smacking his racquet into his moronic cousin’s abdomen (not even that hard).

“You’re a hedonistic drunk.”

“Why are you so mean to me??”

Andrew ignored the familiar whining as he went to change out of his uniform and wash off the sweat; Aaron hurried to follow him, appearing to be over his ‘snit’ at last from Andrew chasing away his latest unwise ‘romantic’ decision. Wymack came out of his office to make sure that they were done for the day and waited until they were finished in the locker room to follow them out of the stadium and lock it up.

Andrew was about to go to the GS when he noticed there was a text on his phone – from Nathaniel. A text which told him to head over to Wymack’s mess of an apartment and nothing else. Puzzled by the cryptic message, he tossed the keys to Nicky then told his cousin and brother to head to Abby’s without him.

He was given a curious look for his decision to ride along with Wymack and Kevin, but everyone knew better than to question him by then.

Nathaniel didn’t answer his text, the bastard.

“Look, if you’re coming to raid my place for alcohol, all I have is beer,” Wymack argued as they stepped into the elevator. “You’re not gonna find anything good inside.”

He was partially right; there was no hard alcohol for once, but there was one Nathaniel Wesninski perched on the back of the sofa, the tips of his dark red hair dyed a mix of black and grey, dressed in ripped black skinny jeans and a dark grey t-shirt that showed off his athletic body to perfection.

(There was also Natalie Shields leaning against the breakfast bar, hair now dyed a mix of silver and pink, dressed in an outfit similar to her brother’s, but Andrew gladly ignored her.)

Wymack swiped his left hand over his face while Nathaniel waved and Natalie held out her arms for an excited Kevin to give her a hug. “Do any of you understand the concept of a locked door? _Any_ of you?”

Nathaniel cocked his head to the side and nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment (Andrew was _not_ savoring the image, _not at all_ ). “Locked doors are a challenge.”

Natalie nodded as she let go of Kevin. “How else are we going to see who’s the fastest at picking locks?”

Andrew swore that Wymack made a whimpering noise just then and decided to add to the old man’s misery. “Sounds perfectly logical to me.”

“Why did I decide no bourbon was a good idea?” Wymack muttered, only to sigh when he glanced at Kevin. “Moving on, why the hell did you pick the lock on _my_ door?”

Nathaniel jumped down from the couch, his expression now serious while Natalie went to the fridge to fetch what turned out to be two beers, one of which she gave to Kevin; that was not a promising sign. “Uhm, we wanted to break the news to you before the ERC did,” Nathaniel said as he came to stand beside Andrew.

Kevin blanched as he accepted the beer and popped its tab but didn’t drink from it just yet. “What did Riko do now?”

Nathaniel glanced at his sister before he resumed gazing at his friend. “Tetsuji somehow talked the ERC into allowing the Ravens to switch to the southeastern district this coming season. They’ll officially announce the news in June, but they should let you know in the next day or two because of the trouble the Ravens’ fans gave you earlier in the year.”

“Riko wasn’t happy with that decision, but the ERC believes that Palmetto State should be prepared,” Natalie added.

Kevin gave a weak laugh before he had several swallows of beer. “I’m sure.” He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds then shook his head. “He’s coming after me, he did this just to take on the Foxes and make me look like a failure so I have no choice but to crawl back to him.”

“Hey.” Nathaniel reached out to touch him on the chest while Wymack clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s going to _try_ to make you come back but it’s not going to work, all right? You’ve got your father and Andrew down here, and me, Lee and Jean at the Nest. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Damn right it’s not,” Wymack assured his son (still a weird thing to consider). “The team’s already tighter this year than last, and only will get better when Janie joins in a few weeks.”

Kevin still looked on the edge of a freak-out, so Andrew snatched away his beer and gave him a flat look. “If you think you’re going to crawl back to Evermore, save me the effort and leave with these two.” Then he drank the beer without breaking eye contact.

“But I don’t wanna go back,” Kevin whined as he made a feeble swipe at his purloined beer; when Wymack made to hand his over, Natalie gave him a flat look of her own which made the old man gulp and start drinking it.

“And we don’t want you back there.” At Kevin’s hurt look, Nathaniel rolled his pretty blue eyes. “You know what I mean, you seem a lot happier here.”

“Yeah.” Kevin smiled at Wymack, who finished the beer and smiled back. “It’s a lot of work, getting the Foxes to a semi-decent skill le-“

“ _Boring_ ,” Andrew sang out as he snagged the left sleeve of Nathaniel’s shirt and tugged the backliner toward the front door. “I’ve heard this song much too much, I’m about to delete it.”

Natalie called out something in French, but Nathaniel merely waved to his sister as he left the apartment. “ _Really? Whatever could Kevin have to complain about you, mister sleeps all day_?” he asked in German.

“ _I know, I’m sheer perfection_ ,” Andrew murmured as he shook free a cigarette. _“Now, any other tricks up Riko’s sleeve that I should know_?”

Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip again while he debated answering that; Andrew lit the cigarette rather than grasp him by those sharp cheekbones and pull him in for a kiss. Dammit, if only he could get the attractive idiot truly alone one day.

“ _Uhm, Kevin can’t know this just yet, or anyone else, but Tetsuji had me switch to playing striker_.”

It took a moment for the meaning of that to sink in. “ _Are you that prick’s partner now_?” Did Nathaniel have to put up with the same abuse as Kevin had?

“No.” Nathaniel’s upturned nose wrinkled in distaste. “ _He still thinks that Kevin will return to his side, I’m just the unlucky bastard who’s stuck with him out on court_.”

“ _Why do you even go back there? Why don’t you just_ -“

Nathaniel cut him off before he could finish speaking. “ _You know why_ ,” the redhead said with a sad smile. “ _We got Kevin out because he wasn’t property, he had no real ties to the- the family_ ,” he settled on. “ _That’s not the case for me and Lee. We know too much, we do too much, and in my case, there’s an alliance based on me. They’d raze this place to the ground to get us back if we ran away, one way or the other_.”

Andrew tried to think of living that way, of knowing that there were invisible shackles dictating one’s every action; it had been bad enough when he’d been in the foster system, when he’d been with Cass and had allowed Drake –

No, he couldn’t imagine how Nathaniel had handed over such control to the Moriyamas and still had some semblance of sanity, could still smile and laugh. He dug the fingers of his right hand into his left forearm, into the scars hidden beneath the armband before he grunted and tore the cigarette from his lips and threw it aside. “ _How can you be so fucking stupid and allow them to own you like that_?”

The smile was wiped from Nathaniel’s too-perfect face by that question. “ _There was no ‘allow’ to it_ ,” he snapped as he stepped away. “ _It must be difficult for someone who was nameless for so long to understand, but some of us are born with obligations and debts. I was either the Moriyamas or was dead. Lee had some choice, but not much better. She **chose** to be by my side_.” He gave Andrew a look of pure disgust. “ _I thought you might have understood but I guess I was wrong about that_.”

Then he walked away before Andrew could think of anything to say.

“That didn’t sound good.”

Andrew whirled around to find Natalie leaning against the closed door to Wymack’s apartment, her expression neutral and arms folded across her chest; somehow, she’d snuck out without him even noticing.

Yet another reason why he didn’t like her.

“Philosophical differences,” he said as he motioned for her to move aside.

“That’s odd, usual Nat’s good with such things.” She gave him a narrow look as she refused to budge. “I think you upset him.”

“So?”

“So, in case you ever hurt him, I basically have permission to remove your skin with a sandblaster, scoop your eyeballs out but still leave your optical nerves attached so you can see what I’m doing to you, hack off your limbs but cauterize the wounds to minimize blood loss and make your agony last as long as possible, then perforate your intestine so you slowly die of bacterial poisoning over several days while I continue to ‘play’. Once you finally pass on, I finish dismembering your body and leave parts of it scattered around the state while disposing of the rest, so those in… let’s say a similar career path as myself will know what will happen if they upset my brother as you did.” After telling him all of that, Natalie gave him a ‘peaceful’ smile. “Now, feel like answering my question?”

Despite himself, Andrew was duly impressed. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

“I find that comment rather sexist.”

“Okay, you’re a fucking psycho,” Andrew amended.

“Rude, but I agree that I go a bit overboard when family is concerned,” Natalie said. “What did you say to upset my brother?”

He almost didn’t answer… but Nathaniel cared about his sister, and it was obvious that she cared about him in return. “I told him he’s an idiot to have sold himself to the Moriyamas.” More or less. “He told me it wasn’t an option for him and to fuck off.”

“Hmm.” Natalie seemed to consider that for a moment. “He’s right, and you shouldn’t bring that up again.” Moving with remarkable speed, she was in front of him with a knife to his gut before he could move, could go for the switchblade tucked into his boot or the one in the small of his back. “This is your only warning. There are some ties you can’t break, and ours to that family is one of them.”

“There’s a simple solution to your problem.”

“Such as how you handled your dear mother?” Natalie asked with a bland smile while he itched to stab a knife in her throat. “An abusive drug addict is one thing, but… well, the less we say about them in public is best, no?”

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that she knew about Tilda, not after how she’d danced around the matter in the past. “I believe in dealing with problems that threaten my people,” was all he said.

“And Nathaniel is one of yours?” When all Andrew did was gaze back at her, she hummed after a few seconds and finally removed the knife from his immediate vicinity. “Interesting.” She seemed to think about something as she toyed with a strand of her dyed hair. “In that case….” She reached beneath the back of her grey t-shirt, which made him tense since he knew she usually hid a weapon there, and handed him a leather sheath which could hold two knives; one was already in it, and she gave him the one she’d just threatened him with. “You’ll need something better than those cheap things you carry.”

‘Better’ indeed, from what he could tell; the knives appeared sharp as hell and had shimmering lines as if made from folded steel, but he barely had time to look at them before she stepped away. “Remember, if I think you’re messing with him, chop-chop.”

“Fuck off,” Andrew muttered as he shoved the knives into the back of his own jeans (despite how he wanted to examine them up close) and switched the ‘cheap’ switchblade there into his other boot. “Chop up Riko instead.”

“Hmm, that would be fun,” was all Natalie said as she walked away.

He returned to Wymack’s apartment and, to his surprise, found the two Exy addicts in the office instead of drinking in the living room; they were watching an old Foxes’ game on the computer. “Shouldn’t you show him porn at one point so he learns about the birds and the bees and doesn’t make the same mistake that you did?” Andrew asked as he leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

Wymack did that whole ‘why did I decide to coach Exy’ nose pinch thing while Kevin glowered at the screen. “We need to come up with a new strategy if we’re facing the Ravens in the fall, we’ll have step up our training regime and-“

“Boring,” Andrew called out as he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

To his unpleasant surprise, Wymack caught up to him as he snagged a six-pack of beer from the fridge; at least all the old man did was sigh over his latest alcohol theft. “Look, what is it about those two Ravens, huh?”

“Joy.”

“What?”

“Joy,” Andrew repeated as he closed the fridge door, then huffed at the old man’s confused expression. “’One for sorrow, two for joy’.”

“For crying out- not now,” Wymack gritted out as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not in the mood for your usual verbal sparring, you lousy dwarf. I wanna know what’s with them that they can show up here at any time, break into my home, and seem to rein in Riko Moriyama. Kevin won’t tell me anything other than he believes they can.”

Andrew opened one of the beers and slurped it before he answered. “Drive me back to Abby’s.”

At first Wymack glared at him, and then he seemed to pick up that Andrew wouldn’t talk in the apartment. “Should make you walk for some damn exercise,” he muttered as he grabbed his keys.

Once they were in the truck, Wymack gave him a pointed look; Andrew waited until he finished the beer then dropped the empty can to the floor. “Kevin told you that the Moriyamas are involved in some not so nice things.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t explain what those things are.”

Because he’d been told not to, and had only said that much to his father so Wymack would understand the danger he’d be in if they angered the mob family, and why Kevin hadn’t run to him sooner. “It’s best you don’t know. Tetsuji and Riko have enough power to make things difficult for us, but Kengo, his older brother, is much more powerful than him. Nathaniel and Natalie may play for Tetsuji’s team, but they’re Kengo’s people.”

Wymack frowned and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “How does that work out, they’re just kids?”

Well, Natalie was in her early twenties, but quibbles. “Family ties. This is above your paygrade, Coach. Just accept that they can check Riko, within limits, and that they have Kevin’s best interests in mind.”

It was quiet for a few minutes before Wymack huffed. “This is supposed to be about Exy, dammit. I pretend I don’t notice you kids smoking pot and drinking, yell at you to watch your grades and to get along better, and you bust your asses out on court. When did things get so complicated?”

“When you forgot to wrap it before you tapped it.”

Wymack came to a slow stop a couple houses down from Abby’s and gave Andrew an incredulous look. “Really?”

Andrew shrugged while he opened another beer. “Just saying, the drama came along with Kevin.”

Wymack’s lips moved for a few seconds but he didn’t say anything right then, not until he resumed driving and pulled into Abby’s driveway, where he put the truck into park and pointed his right index finger at Andrew. “Get out.”

Andrew saluted him then dropped the second empty beer can to the floor before he hopped out of the truck.

Some people didn’t handle the truth well at all.

*******

“ _Is your arm bothering you, Abram? Do you need something_?”

Natalie looked up from the email that Juruo was showing her (a request from Riko to a low-ranked yakuza member to do a more in-depth search into Andrew Minyard’s past) to see Ichirou next to her brother, his right hand on the small of Nathaniel’s back while his left cradled Nathaniel’s left elbow – the arm which had been badly bruised and cut the night before during an assignment.

Nathaniel appeared a bit nonplussed by Ichirou’s closeness and attention (it was the way his eyes went blank and his expression so polite), and before he could say anything, Natalie and Stuart moved forward.

“It’s time for more meds, Ram,” she called out as she motioned for her brother to follow her to the small side table where there were bottles of water, green tea and snacks set out for people to enjoy. “You need to have something with them.”

While she pulled her brother away, Stuart distracted Ichirou with business; the Moriyama heir didn’t appear pleased to lose Nathaniel’s attention, but work was work.

Natalie felt a bit of pity for the young man – his father was slowly dying and he’d just entered an arranged marriage to a complete stranger with the goals of an alliance and providing an heir to continue the Moriyama bloodline. He had Natalie’s sympathy and loyalty, but he did _not_ have her brother as a consolation prize.

“Thanks,” Nathaniel murmured as she handed him one of the pain pills (cut in half) and antibiotics that Suzu had given him after she’d stitched up his arm. “ _He’s being very clingy today_.”

He (and others) probably put it down to Ichirou being guilty over Nathaniel being injured because of faulty intelligence (they’d been assured that Morozova only had three bodyguards with him, not five), but Natalie never recalled such concern from Ichirou the few times she’d been injured in similar situations. Then again, she wasn’t as cute as her brother.

(She also wasn’t as oblivious as her brother, which was a good thing because she would have at least punched Ichirou by now, which would be a bad thing. One had to wonder what Andrew Minyard had done to make Nathaniel realize _something_.)

“ _How’s the arm_?” she asked as she slid the tray with the savory rice crackers towards him so he didn’t take the meds on an empty stomach.

He shrugged as he picked up one. “ _It aches, but nothing too bad since the cuts weren’t that deep. Hopefully it won’t be a bother during practice_.”

At least it was his arm and not elsewhere; his arm guards should give him some protection. “ _We shouldn’t be here much longer_.”

“ _Good_.”

“ _How’s my chopping block doing_?”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at her nickname for Minyard, a smile tugging at the left corner of his mouth. “ _Complaining about the rest of the team being back and how Kev’s starting them on our drills so they’ll be ready for us. Guess that’s not going over too well, if they have the first one down by fall it’ll be a miracle_.”

It sounded as if Kevin had overcome the shock of the Ravens switching districts and was determined to not let Riko get the better of him; as she’d hoped, breaking the news to him in person and reassuring him that Riko wouldn’t win had helped him retain the confidence he’d found at PSU. She wondered if the interviews with him and his father where they stated that they welcomed the challenge that the Ravens would present the Foxes as a growth opportunity for the team when the news had finally been released in the past week was behind Riko’s request to dig further into Minyard’s past.

Something to keep an eye on, but at the moment, she had to worry about herself and her family.

Finished with Ichirou, Stuart came over to them and eyed Nathaniel up and down. “You sure you’re okay? We can have Suzu check you out again.”

“How about she checks your cholesterol, I saw how many croissants you had at breakfast this morning,” Nathaniel teased as he filched a strawberry from the fruit tray.

“Cheeky brat,” Stuart muttered in an affectionate tone as he reached out to flick at a stray lock of his nephew’s hair. “I need the energy to keep up with you.”

“Why do you think I chose to be a goalie? All I have to do is stay within a certain amount of space and I get to watch him run around.” Natalie laughed when her brother wrinkled his nose at her. “It’s a good thing you don’t like sweets because I dread to think about how much more you’d run around then.”

“I’m being terribly abused, where’s Mat when I need him?”

“Speaking of him.” Stuart paused to open an engraved silver case and pick one of his clove cigarettes from it, then lit it with a matching lighter. “Got a job for you,” he told Nathaniel, “when your arm’s healed.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel glanced at Natalie. “Just me?”

“Lot of translating so it’s right up your alley.” Stuart gave Natalie an apologetic look. “That and… well, Cabrera is a bit old school. Best you go by yourself.”

“ _Cabrera’s an ass_ ,” Nathaniel said in French.

“ _Yeah, but you have your orders_ ,” Stuart reminded him.

Natalie wasn’t pleased with her brother going off without her, but probably best so neither of them were tempted to do something about her being insulted (she didn’t speak Spanish, but she knew enough to figure out when she was being called an uppity whore) or treated as if she couldn’t kill almost everyone in the room.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Finally.

Anymore, it was oppressive to return to the Nest, which made Natalie wonder why she had been so eager to leave New York City. There was a manic edge to the place as the Ravens focused almost solely on Exy, as they strove to prove themselves to an increasingly demanding Riko and Tetsuji.

To an impossible to please Riko and Tetsuji.

Natalie remembered when the hallways were filled with laughter and teasing, when Riko (and Kevin) used to smile and run around. Now Kevin was gone and Riko only smiled with malice. The Ravens had always been competitive with each other, but there’d once been a bond of friendship between them as well. Now that bond was seriously frayed by their need to best each other, with the way that Riko set them at each other’s throats in the mistaken belief that it made them _better_.

It only made them more broken.

She watched Rob slam one of the rookies (Jonathan) into the wall with a sneer, and gave the backliner a cold look for the casual abuse. Nathaniel helped the rookie to stand back up, but otherwise they walked away, well aware that there were some fights they had to ignore because they couldn’t fight them all. Jonathan and the others had to learn to stand on their own.

The feeling of helplessness left a sour taste in her mouth.

She gave her brother a hug before she went to her own room, where she found Susan painting her toenails alternating colors of neon yellow and pink.

“What do you think?”

“That it’s a good thing you wear shoes most of the day.”

Susan stuck her tongue out at Natalie; they each had their own way of letting off stress and striving for some sort of individuality while in the Nest – Natalie by dyeing her hair, Susan with her nail polish. It was something fun and part of the reason they got along so well.

Natalie went to put her travel bag down on her bed when she noticed the small gift bag. “Something for me?”

“Sara came by.” Susan sat up and cautiously wiggled her toes as she capped the bottle of polish. “I think she wants to get back together with you, but maybe I’m just being a busybody.”

“You know why I broke up with her,” Natalie said while she peeked into the bag; there were several small packets of different herbal teas, which she liked to drink while she studied.

“No, I know why you think you needed to break up with her, which is good enough in the long run.” Susan shrugged as she set the bottle of polish on her desk. “As long as you’re fine with it, and the two of you still get along.”

Sara was still a friend, and while there were times when Natalie missed having her as more than that… Sara had been asking too many questions about what she did when she left the Nest, had asked to tag along on one of her ‘trips’. That wasn’t possible.

Maybe one day Natalie would meet someone connected to the Moriyamas or Ibanez whom she could trust with both parts of her world, but not now, not in the Nest. The only ones she could truly let in close were Nathaniel and Jean.

She was grateful to even have them.

“And what if we don’t get along anymore?” Natalie asked as she fetched the bottles of nail polish she’d made a point of stopping into the one boutique store to pick up for her partner.

Susan grinned when she saw the name on the bag and snatched it from her. “Then I smack her on the head with my racquet and knock her all the way down to the opposite end of the court.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Nat too much lately!”

“Hmm, he does have some good ideas.” Susan cheered as she held up the bottle of black polish with holographic sparkles she’d wanted for a while. “You’re the best.”

“Nat would want to know ‘the best what?’.”

“Because he’s a clever one.” They shared a grin for a moment before Natalie resumed unpacking. Once that was finished, Susan filled her in on what had happened while she was away, which made Natalie’s good mood slowly fade away.

*******

“Fuck this, it’s Friday. We all have better things to do than whack a bunch of balls!”

“That’s not what I hear about you.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Hemmick, unless you want-“

“Gordon, Hemmick, you’ll both shut your mouths or you’ll spend the weekend running marathons, you morons! Now try it again!”

Gordon glared at a smirking Nicky but backed off with a bit of posturing and grumbling, which meant that Andrew could slump down on the bench. He didn’t think it was the lack of the homophobic asshole’s buddies which made him more ‘amenable’ so far that summer, but the latest addition to their fucked-up team: Janie Smalls.

She stood near Kevin and fiddled with the white tape wrapped around her obnoxiously orange striker racquet, a bundle of twitchy nervous energy, freckles, and badly cut short brown hair. Of course the upperclassmen had immediately adopted her upon first sight – even _Gordon_. The asshole managed to curb the worst of his swearing and temper tantrums on court since it seemed to spook the nervous rookie.

Not that Andrew cared that much (that he cared about much at all), except that there was less fighting on court than usual and that Kevin had focused much of his Exy obsession on the unfortunate girl to ‘help bring her up to speed’. Smalls wasn’t bad; Wymack had managed to find someone with enough talent to go along with all their issues for once, but she wasn’t a Raven.

Kevin, the over-achieving bastard, was determined to make her (and as much of the team as possible) into as close a one as he could in the next couple months.

Andrew was ready to shove him out of the GS halfway to Columbia one night.

“All right, you maggots, get your stink off my court, that’s it for today! I don’t want to see you until Monday.”

“Aw, Coach, you gotta work on healthier ways of showing your affection for us.”

“Move your ass, Boyd, or my right foot will show its affection for it in a way you’ll feel for days.”

_Finally_. Andrew shoved himself onto his feet and headed to the showers, eager to be away from his teammates even though summer practice had only been back in session for a month. Aaron was right at his heels, and it didn’t take long for Nicky to join them in the showers; Kevin seemed to hang back to talk to Wymack.

“You get permission from your _dad_ to hang out with us,” Aaron teased when Kevin finally caught up to them in the locker room.

“Yeah, did he promise to come and get you if you’re lonely?” Nicky added as he pulled on a glittery crop top. “Give you a big kiss then send you on your way?”

“I am not drunk enough for this shit,” Gordon muttered as he slammed his locker shut then stomped away, while Boyd laughed.

“Aw, I think it’s great, how Coach looks after you,” Boyd told Kevin, for once forgetting how much the striker annoyed him. “He’s a great dad.”

“Yeah, he, uhm, yeah,” Kevin stuttered out as he jerked on a pair of black jeans. “You guys ready to go?”

“Waiting on you,” Andrew drawled as he slipped his phone into the front pocket of his jeans; no new text from Nathaniel.

He lit a cigarette while he waited for Kevin to finish dressing then they left the stadium to spend the weekend in Columbia, done with the Foxes and campus and so much orange. Andrew drove that evening, enjoying the hum of the GS’s engine and the music blasting out of the speakers, the sight of the highway vanishing between the car’s hood as it ate up the road, the knowledge that he could go anywhere on a whim.

They went to Sweeties for dinner and crackers, first.

Kevin did his usual rant over Andrew having a large plate of fries and an extra-large sundae for dinner, while Aaron teased Nicky about his low-cut jeans fitting a bit too tight. The booth across from them was filled with teenaged girls who tried to get their attention; Andrew noticed that his twin didn’t even glance their way.

A less suspicious-minded person might think that Aaron had finally learned his lesson, but Andrew wasn’t that person.

Huhn.

When he was full and tired of Nicky’s squawking, he rounded up his ‘monsters’, tucked the cracker dust packets into his back pockets and led them out of the diner. Despite it being a little early on a Friday night, there was already a line at Eden’s, which they bypassed immediately (Nicky blew a kiss to a guy who protested) then went to lay claim to a table near the bar. Andrew grabbed the first round of drinks (Roland was too busy to do more than wink as he handed over the full tray), which quickly disappeared once they were dropped off.

It wasn’t long before Aaron and Nicky left to dance; Andrew pulled out his phone to see if Nathaniel had left a text yet, something he did occasionally on the weekends.

“Janie’s actually making progress on the first drill. I think once she gets it down, she’ll have enough confidence to learn the other ones a lot fa- Andrew!” Kevin glared at him for throwing a balled up wet napkin in his face.

“No Exy,” Andrew proclaimed as he set his phone down. “I’ve had enough.”

“Why are you like this?” Kevin asked as he rubbed his temples. “You could be so amazing if you just _tried_.”

“Don’t care.”

He swore he could hear Kevin grinding his teeth together over the loud music.

After that, Kevin switched to talking about the classes he’d signed up for in the upcoming semester, and how they should set up a bathroom schedule to ensure they all had an adequate amount of time in it before morning practice (good luck with getting Nicky to follow along). He basically babbled about a lot of nonsense while Andrew nursed his shots, appearing content to have someone (seemingly) listen to him, while Nicky and Aaron made asses of themselves out on the dancefloor.

Eventually, the night came to an end, as always; Nicky completely drunk, Aaron not much better, Kevin mellow from the various shots he’d done through the night and Andrew… well, more relaxed than he’d been before he’d gotten to the club. Relaxed enough to maybe get a few uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Maybe.

He drove home to Nicky trying to get everyone to sing along to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ (he almost left his cousin by the side of the road four minutes into the attempt), willing for the long day to come to an end at last. Aaron all but shoved a giggling Nicky out of the car as soon as the GS came to a stop in the driveway, and the two of them stumbled behind Andrew and Kevin onto the porch.

Andrew had his keys out and was reaching for the door when he noticed the faint light on in the kitchen; he stilled at first, then shoved Kevin behind him as he unlocked the door. The tall moron hissed out something as he collided with the porch railing, but all Andrew cared about was that it gave him time to enter the house first with a knife drawn.

Nathaniel Wesninski sat at the kitchen table with a few small paper bags in front of him and a friendly smile on his face as he waved to Andrew; he was dressed in a long-sleeved black t-shirt and there was an expensive looking leather messenger bag on the chair next to him, along with a battered dark blue duffel bag.

“Oooh, that smell, I smell churros!” Nicky exclaimed as he shoved Kevin aside to step into the house, his body swaying as he glanced about. “Who ordered the gorgeous redhead? Thank you sooo much!”

“I thought you guys might be hungry,” Nathaniel said as he pushed the bags toward the other end of the table; Andrew supposed that their contents explained the wonderful smell of cinnamon, sugar and grease.

“That’s a Raven,” Aaron mock-whispered as he knocked his elbow into Nicky’s side. “What’s a Raven doing here?”

“Fulfilling my dreams.”

Andrew snatched up two bags and shoved them at his brother and cousin. “Go away.”

“But-“

“Go.”

That time Nicky got the ‘hint’ and left, bag of churros clutched to his chest as he cast a longing glance at Nathaniel. Aaron lingered for a moment longer, until Andrew narrowed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Kevin went over to give Nathaniel a hug and to whisper something in Japanese to his old teammate, only to shake his head after Nathaniel answered back. He grabbed a bag of the snack as well and, after taking a bottle of water from the fridge, left the two of them alone. Andrew would be surprised by that, but he knew that Kevin called his lock-picking friend from time to time.

Andrew sat at the table and opened the paper bag; the churros were crispy and airy, covered with plenty of cinnamon and sugar. “You take delivery requests?” They were as delicious as they smelled.

“Not quite, but I thought it was rude to show up without something.” Nathaniel nodded to the knife that Andrew had set down. “That looks familiar.”

“I like your sister’s presents better.” Andrew wiped his fingers clean on his jeans then pulled back his left sleeve to show the black armband beneath it; he’d debated using the sheath that had gone along with the blades, but in the end decided to modify his armbands to hold the weapons since people were used to him wearing them.

“I’ll have to step up my game, then.”

Was that… was the idiot flirting with him? Andrew stared at Nathaniel for a moment, but all the redhead did was gaze back at him, his expression tired rather than coy. “Why are you here?”

“Two things.” Nathaniel combed back the thick bangs falling onto his forehead as he glanced over his left shoulder as if to make sure that the others weren’t eavesdropping, but the first floor was quiet and there was the occasional creak from upstairs which indicated that Aaron was in the bathroom. “I need you to do something for me,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Oh? Such as?”

“Keep an eye on this.” Nathaniel picked up the duffel bag and set it on the table; when Andrew gave first it a mildly curious look then him, he nodded. Andrew leaned forward to undo the zipper, then arched an eyebrow when he spied bundles of hundred-dollar bills through the gap.

“Consider my curiosity piqued. I thought you stabbed people, not that you robbed banks.”

Nathaniel grimaced as he slumped down in the chair. “Sometimes the people we…,” he made a slicing motion across his throat, “have a bit of _loose change_ lying around. Long as it doesn’t belong to our bosses, it’s up for grabs. You can say we’re saving it for a rainy day.”

“That’s quite a bit of loose change,” Andrew observed as he zipped the bag closed and set it by his feet.

“Yes, and I don’t want to draw attention to it by taking it with me, which is where you come in. Keep it safe for me, and I won’t care if a small amount of that loose change goes missing, say ten grand or so. Or if by some reason, you need some of it in case of a rainy day for you or Kevin.” Nathaniel gave him an intent look. “But only for a true emergency.”

The house could use a new roof, which was part of the reason why it had been sold for so little; Nicky had hoped that it would hold out until it was ready to be sold in another four years, but one bad hailstorm could do it in. “You do realize that to Kevin, an ‘emergency’ is not having a decent Exy court around.”

Nathaniel’s solemn look gave way to a slight yet true smile. “Which is why he’s not here for this discussion.”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he picked another churro. “What’s the second thing?” He had to wonder if that ‘rainy day’ for Nathaniel might have anything to do with trouble in regards to the Moriyamas, if despite his protest back at Wymack’s apartment that he was planning for the day when he (and Natalie) could break free of them.

Hence him not wanting them to know about the ‘loose change’.

The smile vanished as Nathaniel reached into his messenger bag for a clear plastic baggie filled with various electrical bits that appeared to have been smashed and a small electronic device. “I found out something before I came down here, which allowed me to detour to Columbia before I head… well, it allowed me to see you.” He slid both items toward Andrew. “I’d say Riko’s growing frustrated over the fact that Kevin’s not breaking down at the news about the district change.”

Andrew felt a flicker of anger as he picked up the plastic bag after dusting the sugar from his fingers. “What are these?” he asked, even though he already suspected what they were.

“Listening devices. I went over the house and it’s now clean, but you’ll want to use the scanner on your dorm room when you go back and probably Wymack’s apartment, too.”

Andrew let the rage build for a heartbeat or two before he tamped it down. “Someone needs to teach the asshole manners.” He’d volunteer himself to do it despite the effort involved, a true sacrifice on his part.

“You’re not the first to mention that,” Nathaniel said as he pulled out his phone to reply to a text. “Unfortunately, Tetsuji seems to think him being an asshole snake is ‘cute’.”

“It’s not.”

“On that, we agree.” Nathaniel stood up with a slight groan as if exhausted or sore, possibly both. “I gotta get going, there’s still stuff to be done.” He smiled at Andrew as he picked up the messenger bag and slung it over his left shoulder. “But we’ll have a chance to see each other without me breaking in soon enough! That’ll be odd.”

Yes, at games and the district’s banquets, when there would be a bunch of other people around, so Andrew moved to do something before Nathaniel could run away or they were interrupted. He stood in front of the elusive redhead and held his right hand up to hover in front of Nathaniel’s chest. “Yes or no?” he asked, his throat suddenly gone dry as the words were spoken.

“What?” Nathaniel frowned as if confused, but when Andrew didn’t move, as he gazed at Nathaniel’s lips, at the full bottom one he wanted to nibble and suck on, the frown slowly smoothed out. “Oooh. Uhm, yeah. Yes,” Nathaniel said as he leaned forward the slightest bit but didn’t attempt to reach out or grasp Andrew.

The gorgeous idiot was too good to be true, Andrew thought to himself as he gently wrapped his fingers around Nathaniel’s neck and pulled him in closer for a kiss, one that started off lightly but grew increasingly more fervent when Nathaniel didn’t pull away yet didn’t touch him. He grasped Nathaniel by the right hip to pull him in closer, to feel that lean body against his own, and was about to tell him that it was okay to touch his head when Nicky stumbled into the kitchen.

“Hmm, now I’m craving- ack!” Nicky knocked into the wall as he tripped over his feet when Andrew and Neil spun around with knives in their hands. “You two- _kissing_. _Kissing_ and knives!”

“Shut up before you wake everyone up,” Andrew gritted out, only to have a bad feeling about things when his cousin’s shrieking summoned a bleary-eyed Kevin into the room, followed by the sound of running feet on the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Kevin asked as he rubbed his eyes, his hair a mess even though he’d barely been asleep at all (probably the only reason Nicky’s dramatics had woken him up).

“ _Kissing_!” Nicky repeated as he flapped his right hand at Andrew and Neil, an idiotic grin on his face, right around when a scowling Aaron joined the rest of them.

“Huh.” Kevin squinted at Nathaniel, who stood there with a bemused expression on his face while he flipped the knife in the air. “I thought you didn’t like kissing anyone. You said it was boring and sloppy.”

“Andrew seems to be the exception,” Nathaniel said with a pleased smile and a shrug.

“Wait, _what_?” It seemed that the ‘shrieking’ thing was tied to the Hemmick genes, unfortunately, since Aaron did it right then. “ _Andrew_ kissed the Raven?”

“ _Yes_! Another win for the gays,” Nicky cheered as he pumped his right fist into the air.

“The Raven has a name,” Kevin snapped. “He’s Nat.”

“What he is, is Andrew breaking-“

“Go to bed,” Andrew ordered as he grabbed hold of Nathaniel’s left arm and pulled him toward the door. “ _Now_.” He backed the order with a cold look which made it clear that everyone would soon be unconscious, one way or another.

Nicky and Kevin were quick to scurry out of the room, while Aaron gave him a pointed look before turning around, letting him know there would be a discussion which he’d much rather avoid sometime soon. Cursing Nicky’s alcohol-fueled need for snacks, Andrew went onto the front porch with Nathaniel.

Once out there, he lit a cigarette to settle his temper while Nathaniel texted someone on his phone. After he let out a long exhale of smoke, he huffed and waved the cigarette in the Raven’s direction, tracing a glowing arc of red through the darkness. “I’m an exception?”

“So it seems,” Nathaniel said as he hopped up to sit on the porch railing. “I’ve never been interested in anyone before, boys or girls, though I’ve kissed a few to try to figure things out.”

Andrew went to stand near him and huffed again when Nathaniel parted his knees for him to come closer. “Was that you ‘figuring things out’?”

“No, I already knew that I wanted to kiss you before tonight.” Nathaniel smiled, the expression wicked enough to make Andrew want to pull him close and wreck him in the best possible way. “It was much better than I thought, except for your cousin walking in on us.”

“Such a shame when he unexpectedly passes away in the next day or two.” It was bad enough that Nicky had interrupted them, but to drag Aaron into it, too? Andrew had plans for his loud-mouthed cousin, oh yes.

“Well, let me know if you need a coroner to sign off on the death certificate, I know a guy. Well, woman, really.”

Andrew sighed as he flicked at a lock of hair falling onto Nathaniel’s upturned nose. “Of course you do.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel’s smile gentled, and right before Andrew could ask ‘yes or no’ again despite them being outside, cleared his throat. “While sort of on the topic of work, I do have to get going, my ride’s almost here.”

Andrew nodded as he stepped back, then paused as he thought of something. “Instead of a coroner, give me the name of someone who can teach me how to knife-fight.”

Nathaniel jumped onto his feet and frowned; his hands wrapped around the strap of his messenger bag. “Really? Are you serious about this, because the people I know won’t go about it in a half-assed manner. They’ll beat the lessons into you.”

“Good.” Andrew wasn’t going to sit around while Riko played his games; he was good with his fists, was strong and knew how to fight dirty, but he needed to be better than that to protect his family and Kevin.

Nathaniel studied him for a moment then nodded. “Guy or girl?” he asked as a black Mercedes coupe slowed down then parked in front of the house. When Andrew arched an eyebrow at the question, he shook his head. “You have a preference for which one teaches you?”

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that Nathaniel had picked up on how he didn’t like to be touched by people, not when he’d kept his hands to himself earlier, so he gave the question a moment’s thought. “Girl,” he answered, certain that he’d have no issue fighting with a woman.

“Okay, I’ll let you know once everything is set up.” Nathaniel waved ‘goodbye’ before he stepped off the porch and jogged toward the car.

Andrew watched him leave, the oddest of sensations in his chest which he put down to eating fried food so late at night.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the lovely sniping in this chapter. I just... *hearts*
> 
> And yes! Andrew and Neil/Nathaniel have kissed! We have Andreil!!! Andriel? And Jean's getting some action, too! Kevin is working on his healing.
> 
> Poor Wymack, what he doesn't put up with....
> 
> Natalie/Renee isn't one to mess with, no she isn't.
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.  
> *******

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> Okay, so yes, I took some freedoms with having Ichirou show up there when Neil and Renee were practicing. But hey, I'm already changing things by having Renee grow up with Neil, so why not???
> 
> Neil is eight when Renee meets him (she's about 13). I did my best with matching up the ages in this fic, which was NOT FUN. I hate math. He just looks around six to Renee because he's so small.
> 
> Uhm... I think that's it?
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated. I hope this premise isn't too ridiculous.
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER IS JEAN!!!!!!!  
> *******


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